Bittersweet Revenge
by eruinichil
Summary: All her life she was trained to kill a certain Mirkwood king. Failure meant death for her. But what will she do when she meets Haldir or falls in love with Legolas? She has to choose between her own life and the life of the father of the one she loves.
1. Lessons Must Be Learned

New fic! Yay! Rotk Rotk Rotk Rotk!!! Yes!!! Only 12 MORE DAYS!!!!!! Anyways, if you didn't read my previous fic, Hithiel's means 'misty maiden.' I haven't decided if I was going to put Ambaril in it or not yet. Artamir means 'noble jewel' even though she is far from noble. As for the jewel part, I'll let you decide on that after you read.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, get that into your head already so I don't have to type it again and again ever single time!!  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
Lessons Must Be Learned  
  
Hithiel, the beautiful She-Elf kneeled reluctantly on the cold stone floor of the room. She bowed her proud head before her mother who wore a golden mask on her face. It was carved especially to fit her. Almost no one ever saw her real face. No one but Hithiel. She kneeled before her mother and presented her a whip. This routine was done often. She knew it was useless to resist. Her mother, Artamir, took it without a word. Artamir raised her hand holding the whip and experimentally flicked it towards a porcelain vase. The vase immediately broke, the shattered pieces falling onto the cold floor with a loud clang that echoed throughout the silent room.  
  
Hithiel flinched involuntarily at the sound. She hated this room and everything about it. Her gaze rested on a wooden device and shuddered. Her dull green eyes returned to her mother who nodded pointedly at it. She got up and walked slowly towards it. She kneeled down again with her back facing her mother and rested her arms in two holes in the device. Her mother went to it and slammed a bar hard on her arm so that she couldn't move at all. Hithiel bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain. Artamir disappeared from her view and Hithiel closed her eyes knowing what will follow.  
  
Sure enough, the whip sailed through the air and landed on her back with a loud crack. She felt pain shoot throughout her back and the fabric of her tunic rip under the blow. Old wounds bled afresh and a new slash appeared on her back. She grunted in pain knowing more would follow if she showed any signs of weakness. Another crack of the whip broke the silence and pain flared up again. Her mother finally spoke in a rough voice unlike any other Elves. "You know why you're here."  
  
"Yes," said Hithiel biting her lip in pain.  
  
"What is the only reason you live?" Artamir growled.  
  
"Revenge," she whispered. 'We've been through this so many times,' thought Hithiel as another blow hit her marking her back with bloody X's. 'Just please let the pain stop!'  
  
"I can't HEAR you!"  
  
"Revenge!" she said louder.  
  
"On who?" barked Artamir as she dealt another cruel blow to her daughter.  
  
"Thranduil."  
  
"Who?!" Another crack.  
  
"Thranduil!" Hithiel bit back a sob as another rain of lashes fell on her back that now streamed with her rich blood.  
  
"WHO?!" Crack.  
  
"Thranduil! Thranduil! Thranduil! Thranduil!" cried Hithiel not able to bear the pain any longer.  
  
Artamir removed her mask now and tossed it aside. Her face was nothing less than gruesome. Blisters and boils covered every inch of it. The skin was red and raw. Fire had eaten up almost all her face. Her eyes were black with anger and she lived solely on the thought of revenge of the person who did this to her: Thranduil. She trained her daughter to avenge her but so far she had failed.  
  
"Who is your master?" she growled eyes flashing in anger.  
  
"You, mother," whispered Hithiel.  
  
A pause and another rain of lashes and pain. "Who did this to me? Why do I have to wear a mask for the rest of my life?"  
  
"Thranduil did this to you," gritted Hithiel. Her clear melodious voice was filled with pain. "He tried to kill you by burning."  
  
Crack. "What is your only purpose in life?" Another crack.  
  
Hithiel was almost fainting with the pain. Blood now ran steadily down the floor of the room. "To kill Thranduil," she managed to get out.  
  
"Why have you failed me?"  
  
"I'm sorry, mother," she choked out as the whip fell on her shoulders. "It will not happen again." Her mother was relentless.  
  
"I should kill you right now," she hissed. Her dark eyes were in slits of anger. She merciless beat her daughter marking her delicate back with crosses. The end of the whip was bloody but she didn't care and continued to beat her.  
  
Hithiel swallowed hard. 'I would embrace death right now,' she thought. 'Just please let the pain stop.' She forced out, "It is my fault that I failed and I claim full responsibility for it. I will accept my fate." She closed her eyes, her dark lashes falling on her high cheekbones. Her dark raven locks fell on tangles all around her angelic face that was now contorted with pain. 'Just let it end... Let it all end...'  
  
Her mother continued to beat her with all her strength. "You've failed me again, Hithiel! I do not accept failure! Failure means death but death is too good for you!"  
  
Hithiel felt the lash hitting her but she no longer cared. The desire to live was well gone and even the pain seemed to be getting duller. She knew not for how long she kneeled there before she collapsed on top of the wooden platform. Her limp for hung over the bar that held her wrist and her breathing was shallow.  
  
Her mother glared at her shocked. Then a grin curved up her deformed lips and she laughed. She hit the unconscious form a few more times before walking up to it and examining the wounds. She took out a clear crystal bottle from the folds of her robe and poured its contents over her back where it hissed as it went into her body. 'No matter how much you want to die, you won't be able to. You WILL kill Thranduil even if you die in the process. Now is not your time yet.'  
  
Well? What do you think? My second fic improving? Reviews anyone? Reviews? I want a couple review before I continue this. Return of the King is coming!!!! Just 12 more days!!! WHOO!!!! 


	2. Strange Meetings

Disclaimer: Whoa, hold on let me check. Nope. I still don't own Lord of the Rings. Happy?  
  
Author's Note: Hi, peoples! Man, its been long! Sorry I never updated but I was busy with my other fics and I never got around to this one. Big thanks to those who reviewed!  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
Strange Meetings  
  
Hithiel awoke in a small stone room. Her entire body ached and blood steamed freely down her back. She winced with every movement and she finally gave up trying to get up. She lay back down on the cold stone floor panting with effort. Her tunic was torn from the whip, exposing angry red shade on her normally pale flawless back. Her fingers dug into the ground as she willed the pain to go away.  
  
The door to the cell opened and her mother came in. Seeing her awake, she grabbed Hithiel roughly by her raven locks and pulled her up. "Quit lying on the floor!" she barked. The golden mask was in its usual place and covered the monstrosity. "You have a job to do! Fail again and your life will be forfeit!"  
  
Hithiel moaned in pain as she was dragged up to her feet. She nearly fell over again but the fear of being struck again kept her on her feet. Her mother slapped her again for showing weakness. 'Let me die... please just let me go' she thought wearily.  
  
"What are you standing there for? GO!" she ordered waking Hithiel from her grim thoughts.  
  
The beautiful She-Elf's proud head bowed. Dark locks hung around her face, hiding the tear streaks upon her cheeks. Hithiel knew she had no choice. It was a gamble. Either her life or Thranduil's. It didn't matter anymore.  
  
She slipped away as quiet as a mere shadow, keeping her face hidden. She went to her chambers and threw on another pair of tunic and tossing her old one. It was hopelessly ripped and bloody. Her Elven healing powers would take care of her wounds. She tried not to wince as the fabric touched her wounds.  
  
With nimble fingers, he did her hair in a traditional warrior's braid. They shook slightly as they did the clasp. With deft movements, he slung her quiver over her shoulder and fastened her long knives to her back. She picked up her long bow and walked out of the place she of as home. She wanted to put as much distance as she could between her and that cave.  
  
As soon as she stepped out of the cave, a smile spread across her face. Sunlight shone down upon her and she stood there basking in its warmth until a loud whinny awoke her. She opened her eyes to find her mare, Gwathir waiting for her to mount. With practiced grace, she swung on and kicked her into a fast gallop, heading towards Mirkwood.  
  
She knew all the passages to Mirkwood. She had spent countless boring hours mapping out its terrain and passages. The guards' routine and when they took their breaks. She headed towards the eastern borders of Mirkwood and slipped in unnoticed.  
  
She headed towards the palace and when she got close, she slipped off her horse. Gwathir attracted too much attention. The Elf glided silently along the path, her blood quickening as the thought of the victory that lay ahead, so long awaited and now so close at hand. 'And Mother would be proud of me for once,' she thought.  
  
Hithiel desperately wanted her mother's love but she was always pushed away. Duty always came first. Determination was set in her emerald eyes as she sneaked through the grounds. She would succeed and win her mother's love.  
  
The path ended at the stonewall, and again, the Elf paused, alert and observant. She crouched in the shadow of the wall and examined the scene spread out before her. Beyond the wall was a garden as lovely as anything she had ever seen.  
  
Hithiel's innate love of beauty and peace welled up within her, pushing aside for a moment the urgency of her mission scene, for Elves to be seduced by such splendor. As indeed they had been, she concluded as her gaze lifted above the garden to a distant castle, a marvel of enspelled moonstone and marble. Her sparkling green eyes glittered with hate and triumph as she realized that the trail had led her to the very center of Thranduil's power.  
  
Between her and the palace was an enormous maze fashioned of boxwood hedges. Perfect. How could her task get any more difficult? The arrangement did have its advantages though. It would shield her of any oncoming guards or patrol units. The maze didn't worry her too much though but its entrance could only be reached only through a garden of niphredils. Blessed flowers from the West that was cultivated for sound as will as beauty and scent. The flowers sent faint music drifting towards her in the still morning air.  
  
The Elf listened for a moment, and her jaw tightened. She'd seen such gardens before. The flower beds and statuary were arranged to catch and channel the slightest breath of wind, so that the flowers constantly chimed one of several melodies. Any disruption of the air flow, however, faint, would change their song. In effect, the garden was a beautiful but effective alarm system.  
  
She vaulted easily over the low stone wall and glided past the niphredil garden with an economy of motion only the best Elven rangers could achieve. As she had feared, the tinkling song subtly altered with her passing. To her sensitive ear, the disruption was as glaring as a trumpet's blast, and she ducked behind a statue and steeled herself for the approach of the palace guard.  
  
Several silent minutes passed, and eventually the Elf relaxed. Her lips twisted in derision as she pictured the palace guards-oafs too stupid and common to recognize their own musical alarm. She allowed a smile to grace her lips as she pictured their daily blunders.  
  
Garden mazes, she knew, tended to follow a common pattern. After a few confident turns, Hithiel began to suspect that this one was an exception. This maze was like nothing she had seen before. Vast and whimsical, its convoluted paths wandered from one small garden to another, each one more fantastic than the last. With a growing sense of dismay, the Elf passed exotic fruit trees, fountains, arbors, berry patches, tiny ponds filled with bright fish, and hummingbirds breakfasting amid vines of red trumpet flowers. Most striking were the magical displays depicting familiar episodes from Elven folklore: Tinuviel's enchanting dances, the rise of Numeron, the White City at its height, and the famed beauty of Prince Legolas.  
  
She pressed on, determined not to fail this time running to the entrance of yet another garden clearing. One glance inside, and she skidded to a stop. Before her was a marble pedestal topped with a large, water filled globe. Surely she couldn't have passed that globe before! She crept closer for a better look. A magical illusion raged with the sphere, a glorious Elf with waist length hair led an army of thousands, releasing their wrath upon an ugly orc army. By the Valor, it was the fame of Prince Legolas again.  
  
There could be no doubt. Surely not even this ridiculous maze could have two such displays. The Elf raked both hands through her raven locks, tugging at it in self-disgust. She, and Elf as renown for her ranger's skills as her talents with sword and bow, had been running around in circles.  
  
She sank to the ground and pounded her fists. She blamed herself for not going by the north entrance. Now she was hopelessly lost in this stupid maze!  
  
Suddenly, she felt steel pressed along the length of her neck. "Who are you?" stated a low melodic voice.  
  
Hithiel swallowed and thought quickly. "I am no one of importance," she responded, her hand inching its way towards her knives.  
  
The sword upon her neck dug a little harder. "Speak!" it commanded.  
  
Without warning, Hithiel ducked under the blade and her knives flew into action. She struck a hard blow at the startled Elf but he reacted quickly and pulled his sword up in time to block the blow. "I am Hithiel, daughter of Artamir!" she cried as she swung her knives in a high arc to deal another blow.  
  
"What is your business here?" he asked as he easily avoided her blades. He spun and jabbed at her with his sword. His blue-gray eyes flashed with excitement as she blocked it and turned her parry into a thrust. He blocked it easily. It has been long since he had fought an equal besides Legolas and it was exciting.  
  
Hithiel's eyes grew wide as the sword missed her, barely cutting off her pointed ear. "Why should I tell you?" she snarled lunging low and bringing both knives towards his smirking face.  
  
The golden Elf stepped back a step to avoid her knives. Hithiel was relentless and pressed on. Suddenly, an arrow zoomed out of nowhere and caught itself on the sleeve of Hithiel's tunic. It embedded itself into a nearby tree. Hithiel glared at the unseen archer and tried to tug herself free. "Because," said a new voice. "You are out numbered." Another arrow pinned itself to her other sleeve, trapping her there.  
  
"Show yourself!" she commanded at the silent archer.  
  
A dark figure slid gracefully out of a nearby tree, his muscles rippling like those of a panther. She recognized him as Prince Legolas like the one from the globe. The other Elf, who was broader than the Prince swept his sword around neatly and rested it upon her neck.  
  
"Admit defeat," he said in his calm tone.  
  
Author's Note: There you go! Next chapter will take awhile until I get some inspiration. For those who read We Are One, you know Gwathir, Ambaril, and Sayda. For those who didn't, you will find out! 


	3. Scars Don't Fade

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine. There ya happy?  
  
Author's Note: Sorry I didn't update sooner. This chapter will clarify some stuff. I'll try to update every week. It will be much easier now because I'm almost done with the other one.  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
Scars Don't Fade  
  
~*~*~In Dreams~*~*~  
  
Clear blue eyes, red rimmed from tears stared up at him, pleadingly. The pale skin was marred with tears. "No, don't leave me!" The young Elf woman took a halting step towards him. "My love?" She moved as if to touch him but he jerked away. The pale hand withdrew and sobs started again.  
  
He looked down at her with pity in his eyes and shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. I can't."  
  
"But what about..... our.....?"  
  
"She will never exist." His sapphire blue eyes traveled to the sleeping bundle next to them. His heart jerked painfully as he thought about it but he had no choice. He must do it for the good of the people. That is all. That's the reason for his life. That meant the beautiful Luthien will be his wife. He felt his heart rip painfully and tears clouded his vision but he blinked them away.  
  
He forced himself to keep a calm composure. "I can not. I have my duty to my people. She will never exist," he whispered again into the stuffy dry air of the hut.  
  
Slowly, regretfully, he turned around and walked out of the hut, taking with him a single lit candle. He walked out of the small home that he built with his own hands. The place where memories and love were shared. A silver tear slid down his face. "Namaarie, Artamir," he whispered into the starless night and he flung the candle into the hut.  
  
The dried wood easily caught aflame. The flame of the candle grew bigger and bigger, swallowing the hut, its fiery arms wrapped around it. It was both beautiful and terrible. His eyes grew wide as he saw a dark shape rise within the hut and catch on fire. It rose and fell like the tide, twisting. A shrill scream pierced the night air, growing louder and louder until it seemed as if the entire woods seem to take up the cry.  
  
~*~*~End Dream~*~*~  
  
Thranduil sat up in his bed with a shout, the silk shirt clinging to his back, wet with sweat. His breath came out in short pants. The woman's scream still echoed in his ears. The golden locks that were usually pinned up carefully with silver clasps hung messily around his broad shoulders. "No....." he gasped. "No, she's dead. She is dead," he told himself firmly trying to reassure himself.  
  
Behind him, Luthien woke up and slid her arms around the King. She buried her head within his unruly mane and nuzzled him gently. Thranduil looked around and wrapped his wife up in a tight embrace. Gently, she stroked his golden hair, her slim fingers untangled the many knots. "It was her," murmured Thranduil in a raspy voice. "I saw her again."  
  
He didn't need to say who 'her' was. They both knew well about Artamir who supposedly died in a fire. "But she's dead," Luthien's beautiful voice swirled through the chamber. "The past still hurts but you had no choice. For the good of the people."  
  
"Yes," Thranduil said dully. "For the good of Mirkwood." Heaving a sigh, he slowly climbed out of bed, to get ready for another day.  
  
~*~*~With Legolas~*~*~  
  
"Speak," commanded the older Elf with the sword pointed at the pale column of throat. His stormy blue eyes sparkled with life from the skirmish that he had won with help from his friend. His captive was beautiful with green eyes that now glared at him. She looked so helpless but he knew that she was skilled underneath.  
  
The dark-haired Elf struggled furtively against her bonds but the arrows were buried deep within the tree. The rough bark scrapped her injured back and she felt her blood run down her back again. The cold steel pressed against her neck so she was forced to talk. "What?"  
  
"What is your business here in Mirkwood. This is forbidden to all except the royal family and guests." Hithiel switched her gaze to the Prince. His musical voice was soothing but powerful. Much like himself. Although looking delicate and beautiful in the exterior, it hid his inner strength and power.  
  
"My business is my own. Now unhand me," she said in a clear voice not trusting the Elves at all. Her mother had taught her that all males are worthless and not to be trusted with anything. Artamir had trusted one once but she came out barely alive.  
  
The broader one chuckled. "What's so funny?" demanded the She-Elf still trying to get free. The fire creeping along her back was growing and the bark wasn't helping at all. She bit back the pain, refusing to show any weakness to the strangers.  
  
"You are in no position to be demanding things from the Great Prince of Mirkwood," he said smirking and at that moment, Hithiel wanted to punch the lights out of this arrogant Elf. "You are a mere child compare to him yet you are ordering him around."  
  
Hithiel seethed with anger and she tried to wretch herself away from the tree. Unfortunately, it caused her to rip open the wounds on her back. The motions of the fight and attempted escape caused the scars to open and bleed afresh. An unwanted grunt of pain escaped the dark-haired Elf as her knees bucked under the pain.  
  
Both male Elves turned in surprise at this until they saw the red blood staining the back of her forest green tunic. The Prince made to touch the injury but was stopped by a snarl from Hithiel. "Don't touch me!"  
  
"Lady, I only wish to help," he said gently. Legolas had a gentle heart and could not bear to watch her suffer. He was confused when the Elf recoiled away from him frantically as if he had something that was contagious.  
  
"Get away from!" she cried shrilly backing up against the tree. Legolas now saw that the tree was also tinted red with her blood.  
  
"You need help. You are bleeding badly," he said patiently trying to talk some sense into the apparently crazy She-Elf.  
  
Hithiel's emerald green eyes were now clouded with pain. It felt as if there was a white-hot sword branding her back. She was in agony except she tried her best to hide it. It didn't help at all that her hands were still caught on the tree. A cry of pain escaped her lips as another wave of pain washed over her back.  
  
The other Elf now approached her and tried to help support her. She flinched away from his touch earning a very hurt or confused expression from him. Her legs would not support her any longer and she crumpled to the mossy ground. Her back scraped against the rough bark shooting a spasm along her back. And she knew no more as she fell unconscious into the waiting arms of the Prince.  
  
The older Elf pulled the arrows out of the tree, freeing the She-Elf. "Let's get her inside," said Legolas seeing the intensity of her wounds.  
  
The Elf nodded and helped his friend along through the twisting maze towards the Mirkwood palace where Thranduil was.  
  
Sorry for the shortness! I couldn't find another good place to stop! Now you can make me VERY happy by pressing the lil purple button down there and reviewing! Thanx! 


	4. To Trust Again

Disclaimer: Me want Haldir but me no own no nothing.  
  
Author's Note: Hiya all! Thank you sooo much for your kind reviews!! Updates are gonna be faster now cause I'm getting into it. Oh yeah and MUCHO INPORTANTES CHICOS!! (I'm not Spanish btw) When I type Men like that capitalized, it means the race of Men such as Aragorn or Fairamir and stuff. If its like this: men, not capitalized, it means the male population including Elves and Dwarves. Ok? Got that? Nice! Smart ppls! And one more thing, I don't feel like making another OC so I'm going to use Uruviel of the Galadrim. She was in the first movie when the Fellowship first entered Lothlorien and she wears a tiara thingy so I think I can make her a royalty.  
  
This chapter is dedicated to Brazgirl and Cherryfaerie. If it weren't for you guys, I would've stopped a long time ago. Thankies!  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
To Trust Again  
  
~*~*~In Dreams of the Past~*~*~  
  
Hithiel sobbed as the whip fell across her back. "No, please! Stop!" she screamed. Her young Elven frame winced and contorted in pain.  
  
"Tell me what you have learned," her mother growled behind her. "Lesson number one." The whip sailed through the air and landed on her back with a sharp crack.  
  
The small child gasped, "You are my master. I serve no other. "Hithiel is no one."  
  
"Good, lesson number two!" she shouted followed by another whiplash.  
  
Hithiel panted, her dark hair tumbling all about her. "All men are worthless. Never trust them."  
  
"Yes, and the final one?" she hissed.  
  
"Kill Thranduil," sobbed the innocent young Elfling.  
  
~*~*~End Dreams~*~*~  
  
Hithiel moaned in her sleep, muttering things, her hands clenched and relaxed as if trying to grab onto a lifeline. Legolas looked at her intently. A mystery shrouded her dark head. "No, please! Stop!" she muttered softly.  
  
Legolas furrowed his brows. 'What was she thinking? What happened in her past?' The sleeping figure turned her head towards Legolas and the Prince could see tears trickling down her face. Without thinking, he brushed the back of his hand across her cheek, gently wiping them away.  
  
The door behind him banged open and Haldir strolled in noisily. Legolas immediately turned around and motioned for him to be quiet so he wouldn't waken the Elf in the bed. Haldir grinned with understanding and threw a quick glance at her. "How is she?" he whispered to the Prince.  
  
Legolas shook his head slightly, his golden hair rippling across his back. "Not good. Look."  
  
He walked to the Elf and turned her around slightly to reveal her heavily bandaged back. Haldir's eyes widened slightly when he saw the bloodstained bandages and he let out a gasp when Legolas gently peeled them back to show her lacerated back. It was bloody and painful. Haldir felt an unexpected rush of anger towards the person who did this. He could tell that it has been going on for some time. His sharp eyes could see scars of past whippings. 'How could anybody do such a thing?' the thought horrified. It was completely opposite of the Elves' true nature.  
  
He glanced back at Legolas who was also sick of the idea of someone beating her. Legolas gently replaced the bandages, trying not to cause her any more pain. Just when he finished, the She-Elf began to regain consciousness.  
  
Legolas quickly drew back. Her dark green eyes flashed open and narrowed when she saw Legolas. She instinctively shrank away from him. She realized with a jolt that her tunic has been removed while she was sleeping and her weapons were taken.  
  
The Prince saw the look of pure terror upon her face when she first saw him. 'What happened? What happened to make you so afraid?' he wanted to ask but instead he said, "Who gave you those marks on your back?"  
  
Hithiel's eyes widened. 'He can't know about me. He can't know anything about me or my past,' she thought quickly. 'If he finds out why I'm as good as dead.' "Orcs," she muttered without really thinking. Her eyes betrayed nothing but Haldir saw through it.  
  
"It was not orcs," he said sternly his gray eyes flashing. "Do not lie when the Prince asks you something. Orcs don't use whips to cause pain. They prefer to use their bare hands to cause pain. And besides, you scars show that it has been going on for a while. Are you implying that you were captured by orcs for twenty years?"  
  
There was no hiding it from the sharp Guardian. Hithiel stared determinately back at the Elf. "Who are you anyways? And if you're so smart, why did you ask?"  
  
She hated his arrogant tone. Who was he to question her? The older Elf sighed in resignation. "We were just trying to help so stop acting so childish!" snapped Legolas irritably. "As for our names, we will require yours first." He just didn't understand why she was acting as if she was hiding something from them.  
  
At this Hithiel colored and cast her eyes down slightly. He was only trying to help, right? But her trainings were different. 'All men are worthless. Never trust them.' Her mother's voice echoed in her head reminding her of her duty.  
  
Legolas sighed. She was so stubborn and her sharp tongue would get her into much trouble one day. "Here," he threw a pair of tunic and leggings at her. "Your other ones are too bloody to be worn."  
  
She took them and nodded but didn't actually say thanks. Legolas dismissed it and he and Haldir left her alone to change.  
  
Hithiel looked dully at the dark green tunic that Legolas had given her and mechanically began to change. A shock of pain coursed through her limbs as the silky fabric brushed against her wound. Even with the strong healing powers of the Elves, it would take a few days for her to heal fully. Until then, she could not expose herself to Thranduil.  
  
Her mind wandered off to the two Elves, Legolas and the other. She frowned when she realized that she didn't even know the other's name. Legolas probably thinks she didn't know anything about her but she did. 'I know more than you think, Legolas,' she thought. 'I know every room in this palace.'  
  
She had been here before under a different name, and a different guise. Only in the last moment, she was exposed and had to flee for her life. The soldiers believed her to be dead after a while and ever since then, security has increased dramatically. That would explain that confounded maze. She frowned at the memory of the maze. She never wanted to go in there again. The thought of running in circles and never finding the exit was too daunting.  
  
'Who is that Elf?' she racked her mind for a name that might've slipped but it remained blank. All she could she was that grinning face when he claimed victory. 'I want a rematch!' She gritted her teeth at the thought of that annoying overweight Elf. But he fights well, she'll give him props for that.  
  
She finished changing and threw her old cloths on the floor. She was never the organized type. She tried to stand up but her back wouldn't allow it. She fell back onto the bed with a soft cry upon her lips. She shifted again, trying not to injure her tender back but at the same time, cursing at herself for being so weak. She laid there panting from effort. 'Great. I'm in Mirkwood where the guards want to kill me and I'm injured. Just perfect.'  
  
She became too tired to think clearly and without knowing it, fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
~*~*~With Legolas~*~*~  
  
"Who does she think she is? Galadriel?" cried Haldir outraged as soon as Legolas closed the door. He didn't care if Hithiel could hear. She SHOULD hear it but Legolas only shook his head.  
  
He motioned for him to follow as he walked gracefully down the hallways of the palace. Haldir easily caught up with him, his eyes still flashing with anger. "Hush, she's injured. Let her rest."  
  
Haldir mumbled something inaudible and looked away. "Well at least she should thank you. I mean, you practically saved her life!"  
  
Legolas smiled. "A good deed will reward itself."  
  
"And sometimes it won't," muttered Haldir sarcastically. He laughed lightly at the annoyed expression on his friend's face.  
  
"Oh, just shut up," Legolas mumbled. "Come, my fathers wants me to see someone. Probably another treaty or something." He sighed. Palace life was so boring. He longed for adventure and wished to switch with Haldir who was a Guardian.  
  
Legolas stepped into the grand throne room, his light footsteps echoing slightly throughout the chamber. "You wished to see me father?" he asked as he approached the old king. He bowed his head slightly to acknowledge him.  
  
"Yes, Legolas. I think it is time for you to get married." Thranduil smiled fondly at his youngest son. He completely missed the outraged expression that decorated the beautiful face. Ignoring Legolas's sputter of protest, he continued, "This is Uruviel." He gestured to a pretty Elf maiden standing in the shadows. He didn't even notice her when he came in. When Thranduil said her name, she stepped forward and bowed deeply to Legolas who returned it stiffly. "She is a Galadrim and has agreed to wed you to seal the treaty between Mirkwood and Lothlorien." Thranduil smiled happily. "Then, my son, you will inherit the kingdom."  
  
Another Elf unfolded himself from the shadow behind the throne. "Father! What about me?" Legolas recognized him as his older brother, Ambaril. His dark eyes flashed dangerously at his father. "What will I get? I was supposed to inherit the kingdom! I'm older! I'm better! Legolas is not fit to rule your kingdom! He will destroy it!"  
  
Legolas wanted to protest that he was not inferior and was perfectly capable of ruling the kingdom but he held back. If his father changed his mind and let Ambaril have the kingdom, he wouldn't have to marry Uvu—whatever her name was. It wasn't that she wasn't pretty or anything. She had a light honey brown hair that hung down to her waist. A silver star was bound about her forehead and she wore a floaty light blue gown. She was all in all a perfect bride but he just didn't want her. His mind drifted back to a certain dark-haired fighter that he left moments before.  
  
"Nonsense," cried Thranduil. Legolas's attention returned to his father. "Legolas is perfectly capable." Legolas glowed with pride inside but it was also his doom. "Legolas will inherit the kingdom and that's that. It was your mother's wishes that he gets it. You will honor your mother's word even if you don't care about mine," he said sternly looking down at Ambaril.  
  
Legolas fidgeted on the spot. His older brother was sending him a You-Are- So-Dead-When-I-Get-My-Hands-On-You glare that he usually reserved for orcs. "Umm... Haldir? Let's go."  
  
He turned and was going with Haldir struggling to catch up when a soft hand grabbed his. He whirled around and stared into the soft blue eyes of Uruviel. "Let's get one thing straight right now. I wanted nothing to do with this. Our fathers made it all up."  
  
Legolas stared. She looked so delicate but like Hithiel, she had a very sharp tongue. He had to admit, she was very beautiful but she was so... He wanted to shake off her hand. It was soft, not at all like Hithiel's that were skilled and deadly. Uruviel was nothing but a decoration in the high courts. She was probable just another snobby brainless Elf.  
  
Legolas shook her hand off and looked away. "Umm... sure. Listen, I really need to go right now so we'll talk later ok?"  
  
She glared at him. "Why? Why not talk now? What's more important than me?" She stamped her foot angrily like a spoiled young brat.  
  
Legolas flushed and glanced at his father who was watching this exchange with a smile. "I-I have some other business to take care of. We'll talk at dinner, ok?" He felt like he were talking to an Elfling.  
  
He quickly dragged Haldir and hurried down the hall before she could say anything else. As soon as they were out of earshot, they both burst out laughing. "That's a very pleasant bride, 'Your Majesty,'" he said in between bursts of laughter.  
  
Legolas leaned against the wall to catch his breath. "No way. I am not going to survive one day with her let alone eternity." He turned around, his eyes still shining with mirth. "Let's see what our Little Mist is faring, shall we?"  
  
"Let's hope she's better than Uruviel," said Haldir saying the Elf's name in a little baby voice.  
  
Legolas grinned but he noticed the way Haldir's stormy blue eyes lit up when he said Uruviel's name. 'This could get interesting.' 


	5. You Were Wrong

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings does not belong to a thirteen-year-old Asian girl who failed reading comprehension on a standardized test.  
  
Author's Note: Soooo sorry I didn't update!! Very, very sorry. I was trying to finish up my other story so I could just focus on this one. Ok, just to let you know, the next chapters might be a bit confusing with everybody trying to hide stuff and all. Some of you already figured out the thing between Hithiel, Artamir, and Thranduil so that will make it much easier to understand.  
  
NOTE!! This chapter is mainly the character's thoughts.  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
You Were Wrong  
  
Ambaril glared at his younger brothers, unable to believe what had just happened. 'He thinks he's so much better than me! That bastard! I should be heir to the throne! Me! I'm older. Legolas knows nothing. Only because he looks like Mother. He was always the favorite son. The nice innocent one. So quiet. No nice and helpful. You don't fool me, Legolas. You are NOTHING! Just wait and see. It's all because of Mother. You're such a baby. Father only likes you because you remind him of Mother. You're not better than me! We are equal. Maybe I'm better. Yes, I was always the better fighter.'  
  
An ironic smile graced his pale face and he left the throne room quietly for his own chambers, his mind still racing. 'Damn you Legolas! May you never receive entrance to Mandos Hall. EVER!' That was the worst thing to say to an Elf. To be banned from Mandos was the worst punishment to be dealt. The threat was not to be taken lightly.  
  
He paced back and forth in the silence of his own chambers, trying desperately to reclaim the throne for himself. His light feet strode angrily over the polished wooden floor. His sun-gold hair, the family trait, blew into his face. Ambaril reached up with slender fingers and impatiently brushed it off. 'Father's hair,' he thought grimly. 'No. Not Father. Ada, you never considered me to be your son. I was never worthy enough to be your son. You never loved me. If I had died, you wouldn't ever shed a tear for me. You only care about Legolas. Only him. There is no place in your heart for me.'  
  
Sadness clouded the blue eyes. So blue it was almost black. Then the sadness there flicked away, replaced by anger. 'If you don't consider me your son, then you're not my father. You will never be a true father to me anymore. I am not your son.'  
  
Ambaril's features hardened and his eyes guarded. "I am not your son."  
  
~*~*~With Hithiel~*~*~  
  
She felt a warm hand touch her face. 'Mother?' She leaned unknowingly into the touch. The hand was warm and comforting but it was also slipping away. 'Mother! Don't leave me!' She tried to hold on to that moment but it slipped away from her. 'No! Don't leave me here!'  
  
And her green eyes snapped open and the first thing it focused on was the Prince in front of her. 'It wasn't Mother,' she thought with a twinge of sadness. 'I should've known. Mother would never do that.'  
  
"You're awake," the Prince said softly, his blue eyes staring hard into her green.  
  
'Obviously,' she thought but when she tried to say it, nothing came out. 'I guess it wouldn't hurt to be nice to him for once. After all, he did save my life.' She nodded mutely.  
  
"Turn around," the Prince commanded. He reached out towards her and she instinctively shrank back from his touch. He sighed. "I won't hurt you. I am trained in healing. Please. Let me help." He tried to extend his hand in a gesture of peace but he could still see that the Elf was still tense. 'What made you so afraid?'  
  
Hithiel was still tense. She didn't trust the Elf but she didn't know what made her uncoil from her defensive position and allow him to help. Slowly, she turned around but she kept on darting suspicious glances over her shoulders. Legolas noticed this but didn't say anything.  
  
"I need to see your back," he said softly knowing that rushing her would do nothing. After a nod of permission, he gently helped her slip off the light green tunic. The he was faced with the bloody mess of her back. Most of the bleeding stopped but some had reopened when she jerked awake. Behind the mess of dried blood, he could see the pearly white of past scars.  
  
"Haldir?" he said. He felt her jerk underneath his hands when he said that and Haldir shot him a questioning look. Legolas shook his head slightly, his golden hair cascading down his back like a waterfall.  
  
Haldir stepped towards his friend, holding a small basin filled with warm water and athelas leaves. He made a face when he saw the result of the Elf's whippings. Legolas took a small piece of cloth and dipped it into the athelas. Then, trying to cause as little pain as possible, started to clean her back. A small hiss escaped the Elf and an occasional shudder ripped through her body but she otherwise did nothing. Soon, the water in the basin was tinted red by her blood.  
  
The piece of cloth was also stained red by her blood and Legolas was amazed that the Elf didn't utter a single whimper. He glanced at her face but it was completely emotionless. He bound her back with clean bandages and stood up admiring his work.  
  
Hithiel shook her head slightly, causing her long raven hair to fall back into place, covering her bandaged back. She shrugged her tunic back on and turned to face the two Elves. She had to admit, she was starting to trust Legolas but the other...  
  
'Haldir...' Yes, that's what Legolas had called him. Her sharp eyes studied the Guardian. He was stronger than her and probably had more experience but she had seen to it that she was faster than him.  
  
"It should heal naturally now," said Legolas jerking her from her thoughts. "Don't overstrain yourself. You can rest here in the palace until you are strong enough to travel."  
  
Hithiel was taken aback at this offer. She had not expected kindness or help from the stranger. There must be something else. No one will offer shelter without payment. He wants something in return.  
  
Legolas could see that she was surprised by his offer but he said nothing. 'Why doesn't she trust me?' He cleared his throat slightly. "May I ask you something?" he said nonchalantly, hoping that she'll be more corporative this time.  
  
'I knew it! He wants information. That was the payment for living here. That's why he was acting so nice to me.' She narrowed her eyes. "That depends on what the question is," she said coldly, her suspicions renewed. Her training ran through her mind: Never trust men. 'Especially the son of Thranduil.'  
  
She saw Haldir move from the corner of her eye and she whipped around to face him in an attacking stance. To her surprise, he didn't attack her. He just stood there with his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "I am not your enemy," he said with a grin when he saw she was in an attacking stance.  
  
Legolas also grinned. "I said don't strain your back," he scolded lightly. To his delight, she also smiled. It was the first time he ever saw it and he could see it was genuine, lighting up her entire face.  
  
"No, you said don't OVER-strain my back. I'm not OVER-straining it." She grinned at Legolas's mock pout for losing the argument. 'How can this Elf be Thranduil's son? He's so innocent, so carefree. Maybe Mother is wrong. Maybe not all men are bad.'  
  
At the thought of her Mother, all her playfulness evaporated leaving her only her training and duty. To kill Thranduil. That's what she lived for. That was the only cause. The impish grin left and slight frown decorated her face.  
  
"Does your back pain you now?" he asked seeing the change in her.  
  
"Yes," she lied feeling a pang of guilt. The Elf has been truthful to her all the time and even saved her life yet she still lied to him. His startling blue eyes were overflowing with innocence and youth.  
  
Legolas quickly got a pillow and used it to support her injured back, feeling the emerald green eyes studying every movement. "What were you going to ask me?" she said suddenly.  
  
"Oh, nothing."  
  
"Liar."  
  
"Fine. I was going to ask you who did this to you," he gestured to her back.  
  
His sharp blue eyes saw the emotions that flitted through her eyes. Sadness, loss, and acceptance were all blended together in those expressive eyes. She blinked once and it became guarded, void of all emotions. 'You didn't deserve it. No one should,' he thought sadly, feeling his heart go out towards the Elf.  
  
"I can't tell you," she said softly after a moment of awkward silence. She looked up and the two Elves could see unshed tears in her eyes. Legolas wanted to reach out to comfort the Elf but he feared that he would scare her away.  
  
"Why?" asked Haldir just as softly.  
  
A single crystalline tear slid down her pale cheek but she quickly brushed it away. 'Mother, why? Don't you love me? You never cared about me. I was nothing to you. You are just using me for your own revenge. You were wrong. Not all men are worthless. Haldir and Legolas actually care. They care.'  
  
She bit her lower lip, trying to direct her internal pain somewhere else. It didn't help so she bit harder. Then the metallic tang of blood filled her mouth and she realized that she had injured herself. A river of blood ran down her chin from her split lip. Her eyes blurred from the unshed tears but she refused to let them fall.  
  
Legolas looked at the broken Elf with pity swimming in his eyes. He held up a piece of cloth to her. She looked away. "I am not crying." Her voice was dull and lifeless.  
  
'What happened to you, Hithiel?' he thought. "I know. It's for the blood." Hithiel turned and looked away again. Legolas sighed. She's so stubborn! "If you want to cry, just cry. There is no shame in it. Even the strongest of warriors will cry. Tell us what happened. Trust us."  
  
Hithiel turned her proud head slowly towards him. "Should I trust them? Can I trust them with my secret?'  
  
Ok, there you go. A small dose of cliffs do very nicely for getting reviews. PLEASE REVIEW!!! It will make me very happy cause now I'm really bored with Spring Break. 


	6. Unforgotten Past

Disclaimer: You shouldn't be here if you don't know Lord of the Rings belongs to the genius Tolkien.  
  
Author's Note: I'm making Galdor of the Gray Havens a Mirkwood guard since in the Fellowship, he seems to know a lot about Mirkwood. Got that? Good! Now on with the next chapter!  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
Unforgotten Past  
  
'What?!'  
  
Legolas's clear azure eyes burned into Hithiel's rare green ones, demanding the truth. Hithiel shifted uncomfortably from his gaze but she couldn't break contact from his sapphire eyes. The eyes that seem to pierce through her lies as easily as one of her sharpest arrows.  
  
'I can't tell him. He won't understand,' she thought despairingly. Her mouth was suddenly dry and she felt weak. 'My life is not worth living.'  
  
"Hithiel?" Her eyes snapped instantly to the one named Haldir. He stood a little off to the side, leaning against the wall. "Tell us. I give you my word, it will never be repeated outside these walls."  
  
Her gaze shifted to Legolas who nodded slightly. His eyes never left her face. Hithiel quailed before their intense stares. Both wanted the truth but the truth was the one thing she couldn't give them. She felt a small tear slip from her eyes and she bit her lip even harder to stop the tears. 'I cannot cry. Crying is a weakness. I am not weak.'  
  
~*~*~Flashback~*~*~  
  
The young Hithiel sobbed as the pain racked her body. "Daro!" she screamed into the cold unforgiving darkness. "Daro!" [Stop!]  
  
"Why?" a voice from behind sneered at her. "You are weak and pathetic. I don't know why I put up with you in the first place."  
  
"M- mother," she gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," as more tears streamed down her frightened face.  
  
"No. Prove to me you really mean it. Prove it that you're not weak and pathetic. Prove me wrong. Prove it. Until then, you're not my daughter."  
  
And from that day, she never showed any weakness. Not a single tear escaped her from that day on.  
  
~*~*~End Flashback~*~*~  
  
She was dimly aware of the blood flowing down her chin. The pain wasn't even close to the pain she felt inside. She felt the tears that were threatening to spill recede. She blinked once more and her eyes were cleared completely.  
  
The Elves gaze never left her. She shifted uncomfortable again and without warning, she bolted. Both the Elves were startled but their reflexes were fast and both took up the chase.  
  
Legolas was surprised at how fast she moved even with her injury. His hand reached out to grab her but she seemed to know this. She swerved suddenly and avoided him. His fist closed around empty space. He looked up to see a flash of black whip around the corner and grinned. It was dead end. A small closet really. His light footsteps barely made a sound as he rounded the corner. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting and found Hithiel quivering in a small pile on the floor.  
  
He felt a wave of pity wash over him. She looked so helpless sitting there curled up into a little ball. Her eyes were glazed slightly and her lithe form was shaking uncontrollably. He walked lightly over to her and sat next to her. She didn't even seem to be aware of him. "Hithiel," he said quietly putting a hand on her shoulder.  
  
She didn't look at him. She just stared straight ahead with those lifeless glazed eyes. "Mother never loved me," she managed to say in a dull voice that lacked her usual enthusiasm. "She doesn't want me. She says I'm weak and pathetic." She took a deep shuddering breath. "I am nothing to her."  
  
Legolas stared when she said that. 'How can anyone be so cruel to her?'  
  
"She taught me not to trust. She says all men are worthless." She finally turned to face the Prince. "She says I am not fit to be her daughter."  
  
Legolas could see the shining moisture in her eyes that she was trying in vain to hold in. "My mother never loved me. Everyone I am close to fears me. I have no friends. No one ever cares." She met Legolas's eyes. "She was the one who gave me those marks."  
  
Even in the dim lighting, she could see that Legolas's features were twisted in horror at this new bit of information. 'But that is only half the truth,' she thought sadly. 'He will never know.' "If it wasn't for her, the Hithiel today wouldn't be the same as the one before you," she concluded dully.  
  
She bowed her head so that her dark hair formed a curtain around her face. Her dark lashes rested upon her high cheekbones. After a few silent moments, she felt Legolas's hands on her. She stiffened automatically but tried to relax. 'I trust him. He won't harm me.'  
  
The hands gently coaxed her to raise her head and meet his eye. "I'm sorry," he murmured when she was looking at him.  
  
"What for?" she said bitterly, ducking her head so that he wouldn't see her tears that were forming again on her long lashes. "It's not your fault."  
  
Legolas wouldn't have any of it. His hand lifted her face so that she was looking straight at him. "You are not weak, Hithiel and you are not nothing. You matter a lot."  
  
"Sure," she said rather sarcastically. "To whom? My mother? My unknown father? The one who deserted my mother as soon as I was born?"  
  
Legolas shook his head violently. "No, I don't know about them, nor do I care. You matter a lot, Hithiel. You matter to me. Stay in Mirkwood with us. We will treat you well. Don't go back to them."  
  
'You lie. No one wants me. My father left my mother and me as soon as I was born. She always said it was because of me that he left. He knew I was weak and pathetic. That's why he left.'  
  
"Hithiel, stay in Mirkwood." She looked back at Legolas. She wanted to believe what he said. He longed to live in the comfort of Mirkwood but then her duty would be incomplete. She will be punished for failing. No, she couldn't stay.  
  
Her duty... She wasn't a hundred percent sure if she could dealt the killing blow now. Thranduil was Legolas's father. How could she kill him? She started to doubt herself but then her mother's voice came back to haunt her.  
  
'You are weak and pathetic!' she screamed at her. 'You are not strong enough to resist this piece of slime. This Legolas is nothing but another man. He is not worthy! He is no better than all the other. All men are worthless! Have you forgotten everything I taught you?! I was right all along. You are weak! You are nothing. You are not worthy to be my daughter. Any daughter of mine could carry out such a simple task but not you! You cannot even kill Thranduil because of that Legolas, can you?! I don't even know why I bother to raise you at all! I knew you were weak from the beginning. I should've killed you when I had the chance and find someone who can actually do what I say!'  
  
Hithiel flinched at those harsh words but the doubt was still there. She had no choice. She had to kill Thranduil. It was her duty. She had to do what her mother said. 'For all my life, I did what you said, Mother. I will not fail you yet. I have to prove that I am not weak. I will win your love, Mother. I am your daughter.'  
  
~*~*~In Mirkwood court~*~*~  
  
Thranduil sighed as he leaned back into the jewel encrusted throne. He knew about the rivalry between his sons and that it will be hard for Ambaril to take but Legolas would be much better at governing the him. Ambaril was too war-like and would seize everything with an iron fist. He would take the reins and pull sharp and hard. He would whip his men into obedience and everyone will fear him. That was Ambaril's nature and nothing would change it. That was why he couldn't let Ambaril have the throne.  
  
Politics was not for him. The King sighed and began to start a new day of politics. "Galdor?"  
  
"At your side, milord," replied the golden haired Elf swiftly. He was clad in armor making him look bigger than he really was. No one would guess that he was a hardened warrior inside. His fair face was lively and a smile usual decorated it. The golden mass on his head was pulled back neatly into the traditional warriors braid. Many people mistook him for Legolas.  
  
"Good. Could you take your troops to the east side of the border? There were a couple of reports of missing Elves there. The wander into the forest but they never came back. There was no trace of them. Nothing."  
  
Galdor frowned at this information. It wouldn't be Orcs for they were messy and noisy. Very easily spotted and taken care of but he never heard of a creature that left no trace of the victim. The spiders were troublesome but they were also very messy. "Yes, milord. I'll get to it right away."  
  
Galdor quickly mustered a dozen warriors. He didn't think he would need more than that. There were no real great threats in Mirkwood that he knew of. As soon as all the troops were armed and ready, he swung onto his pure white mount and led them out of the armory. The pounding of horses thundered across the plains leaving a cloud of dust at their wake.  
  
As they neared the border, Galdor grew a bit uneasy. It was an empty plain but there was a thick fog hanging low over it. The fog was so thick he could barely see his closest warrior that was about two meters away. He rode more slowly, keeping his sharp ears out for anything that might ambush them. Eyes were of little use here in the thick fog. He heard a slight rustle behind him but when he turned around with his sword drawn, he didn't see anything.  
  
With increasing nervousness, he rode further into the fog. "Sayda?" he called out to one of his warriors after a moment of silence.  
  
No one answered him. He whipped his head around and stared but there was nothing but swirling white fog. The twelve warriors that he started with were gone. With their horses. "Sayda?!" he called again. "Glingal? Kementari? Delduwath?! Cemendur?!" he called out their names desperately hoping at least one of them will answer him. [A/N: Translation for their names: Stone warrior?! Hanging Flame? Queen of the Earth? Night Shadow? Lover of the Earth?]  
  
There was no sound except for his heavy breathing. He raised his sword and his grip tightened. Forcing his panic away he dismounted and took a fighting stance. He had more of a chance on solid ground than on top of a horse were he could be easily knocked off.  
  
His beautiful blue eyes were wide with fear and they darted around nervously. He felt rustle behind him and he whirled that way, slashing madly. But he only hit air. His eyes darted everywhere but then his ears sharpened with a mad crackle filled the air. It seem to echo everywhere and swirl around him. He whirled around confused, trying to figure out where it came from.  
  
Then without warning, five balls of flame came shooting at him. His eyes widened and he spun out of the way with lightning fast reflexes. Another one was headed straight for him and he instinctively raised his sword to hit it. The sword sliced it down the middle and the two halves whizzed past his side, missing him buy millimeters.  
  
Galdor panted from relief but then a figure with a dark blue cloak leapt out straight at him. He raised his sword but the figure was too fast for him. It gripped his hand and twisted it painfully behind his back. He struggled to release himself but the grip was strong. Slowly, he dropped his sword. As soon as the steel hit the ground, the dark figure kicked it away and pushed Galdor's higher into his back. The pain was unbearable and Galdor screamed out in agony. With a sickening pop, the arm hung limp and useless at his side. Galdor's fair face was streaked with sweat from the pain and he opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out.  
  
He stumbled when the figure released him. He tried to see the face but the person was just too fast. It was nimble and twirled away. Without warning, it struck again, this time kicking out behind the knees making Galdor fall on his back. Galdor closed his eyes on the impact and when he reopened them, the figure was nowhere to be seen. He just sat up when he felt something grab hold of his legs. He struggled to kick out but only manage to turn himself onto his side. The figure then kicked out hard. Before he knew it, pain exploded on both his legs. The figure had kicked his knees in, bending the leg the other way. The opposite way the knee was suppose to bend.  
  
Galdor screamed out in pain. It was so great he though he was going to faint. Never before had he felt such pain before. He laid there helpless with both his legs, and an arm broken. His fair face was streaked with sweat, tears, and dirt. The dirt clung to his golden hair that now looked black. He couldn't move. He let the enemy dominate him. He didn't even have enough strength to struggle and before he knew it, pain exploded again on his right hand. The figure bent his entire hand backwards and with a sickening crack, it broke.  
  
A piercing scream rang in the dense air. Galdor's lungs ran out of air to scream but his mouth was open in a silent scream of pain. He forgot to breath and when he finally took a big gulp of air, he laid back down on his back like a dead thing. "Ada!" he cried out helplessly. He never thought this pain existed and it could happen to him. The pain was raging through his entire body and he was finally able to faint and not bear the pain any longer. He breathing became shallow and the last thing he saw before his eyes went dark was that the figure had a golden mask for a face.  
  
The figure with the gold mask looked down at the Mirkwood guard and scoffed. Like it was a sack of potatoes, the figure slung him over its back and dragged the body away leaving no trace except for the Ring of Mirkwood that had slipped of his finger when it broke his hand.  
  
Author's Note: Very sorry this chapter was so short. There's something really screwy bout my computer. Hope it's not a virus. Now PLEASE rEvIeW!!!! 


	7. Child's Play

Disclaimer: I am an Ai not a Tolkien so I can't possibly write Lord of the Rings.  
  
Author's Note: I know the end of the last chapter was kind of icky but work with me here. Some of you guessed that the figure that attacked poor Galdor was Artamir and guess what? *corny celebration music starts playing*  
  
YOU ARE CORRECT!!!  
  
Yay! *clap clap* Remember that. It will come up again in a few more chapters.  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
Child's Play  
  
'Where did that Elf run off to now?' Haldir thought with a bit of frustration. Legolas was also nowhere to be seen either. He sighed and gave up looking for them. The Mirkwood palace was so easy to get lost in. He never felt relaxed when he was in it. It was built by the Dwarves so of course, they used stone. It always reminded him of a prison, unlike the talans that he lived in when in Lothlorien, his true home.  
  
Haldir impatiently brushed his silvery hair out of his face and started to retrace his footsteps to his room that he shared with Legolas. He was doing very well until the hallway split. 'Right or left? Right. Left. Oh, forget it.'  
  
He chose the left side and started walking confidently down another hallway. With a small grin, he reached his quarters. He flung open his door, preparing to burst in and jump onto the soft feather bed--but then he froze.  
  
His stormy blue eyes widened when he saw Prince Ambaril, Legolas's older brother, staring at him with equal shock. He felt his face flush and his ears got hot. Haldir stuttered an apology and was about to close the door when Ambaril called him back in.  
  
Haldir shuffled in uncomfortably. "Yes, milord?" he asked with a slight bow.  
  
To his surprise, Ambaril wasn't mad at him for barging in. "Stop it with the formalities, Haldir. You come to Mirkwood so often that people are starting to think you're our brother."  
  
Haldir raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Me? I don't even know where my own room is." A faint pink tinged his pale skin when he remembered why he was there in the first place.  
  
Ambaril laughed. "I'll show you to your room, Haldir," he said finally when he stopped laughing. Then his expression suddenly became serious. "You know," he said as if the idea just hit him. "maybe you should be our brother."  
  
"What?!" His expression completely lost.  
  
"I said, maybe you should become our brother. Part of the Thranduilion. Blood brothers," Ambaril said with a grin.  
  
Haldir studied the Prince carefully to see if he was kidding but he could detect no trace of a lie in his eyes. However, he caught a small glimmer in his eye but he thought he imagined it. It disappeared almost as soon as he saw it. "Fine, 'Brother,'" he mocked. "Then that means I get to inherit the throne," he said with a grin. "I'm older than you."  
  
"You wish," muttered Ambaril throwing a pillow at him, his mood suddenly dark.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh, nothing," replied the Prince with a wave of his hand, the cheery demeanor returned as swiftly as it had left. "So, brother?" he asked holding out a hand.  
  
"Brother," said Haldir firmly grasping the hand. He looked up into the sky blue eyes and once again, he thought he saw something else there that looked like triumph. He quickly pushed it out of his head saying, "Let us seal it with a drink, shall we?"  
  
Ambaril leapt up from the bed by pushing on Haldir, making the Guardian lose his balance. Throwing him a wicked grin he said, "You're slow for a Thranduilion."  
  
Haldir growled quickly regaining his footing. "Slow eh? I'm also a Galadhon. Think you can beat me to the kitchens?"  
  
"I can beat one of you lumbering Galadhon tree-people any day," the Prince said with a scoff.  
  
"Fine, let us bet then. If I should win, you will be my servant for twenty- four hours, doing whatever I say. But if you win, I will run around the Mirkwood throne room acting like a crazy Dwarf in front of the king and all the guests. Ok?"  
  
Ambaril thought for a second. "Run around like a crazy Dwarf naked," he said.  
  
Haldir arched an eyebrow at him. "Fine. Naked," he added, very sure that he could beat the Mirkwood Elf. Even if he was a Prince, it didn't make him faster, right? He would not lose this bet. He had to win. There is no way he was going to run around Mirkwood naked.  
  
"You're on!" cried Ambaril. He crouched down, ready to sprint off to the kitchens. He threw the Guardian a cocky grin. "Get ready to lose, Brother."  
  
"Humph. You get ready to kiss my feet," he retorted.  
  
"Go!" the Prince cried suddenly and both of their bodies lunged forward simultaneously and raced neck to neck down to the kitchens.  
  
Haldir magnificent body flashed and he whipped around the corner, his eyes never left his target. He knew the Prince was right beside him and he urged himself to go faster. His legs moved so fast that they were a blur beneath his body and his silvery hair trailed out behind him. 'So close...' he thought, his hands reaching out towards the finishing spot.  
  
"Beat you!" both of them yelled at the same time as they touched the cool marble wall of the kitchen. Haldir looked over at Ambaril who was panting hard from the short sprint. His golden hair was thrown messily across his face but he still managed to give off that regal air.  
  
"No way," Haldir declared. "I so beat you. Now you're my servant!"  
  
"Hey! We tied!" cried the younger Elf. "You didn't win."  
  
"Yes I did! I beat you by a second. My hand touched the wall before yours so I won," he stated calmly.  
  
"But my arm is shorter!"  
  
"So?" he fastened the Prince with one of his infamous Guardian stares until the Prince looked away.  
  
"We tied! I am not your servant!" he cried stubbornly like an Elfling.  
  
"No, it wasn't a tie." Suddenly, Haldir lunged and grabbed a poor cook from the kitchen by the collar. The Elf looked at him frightened, his eyes darting like a trapped rat. "Who won?"  
  
"I- I don't know... I wasn't paying attention," he stuttered but the Guardian started to raise him higher until the cook's toes barely brushed the floor. "You did!," he squealed. "You did, milord, you won!"  
  
Haldir grinned. "See? Even the cook says I won."  
  
Ambaril glared at him and sputtered but could not say anything. "Put the poor Elf down, Haldir," he ordered finally glancing at the cook whose face was readily turning purple.  
  
"Huh? Oh yeah," he said, smiling sheepishly and he loosened his grip. The cook immediately fell into a heap on the floor and ran away from the Guardian who towered over him.  
  
"Now, servant," he said wickedly looking at Ambaril who flinched. "First I want you to clean my boots. They're all dusty from all that running you made me do."  
  
"But they're clean already," Ambaril protested looking at Haldir's boots. It was true. There was hardly a spot on them.  
  
"So that will be even more easier for you to clean," said Haldir smoothly. "Next, I want you to groom my horse. It's tired from the long trip to Mirkwood and didn't have a bath yet. I want him spotless with his hooves polished and his mane and tail plaited."  
  
Ambaril opened his mouth to protest but Haldir just ignored him. "And when you're through with cleaning her, you will muck out her stall and fill it with fresh hay and water." Haldir finished and grinned evilly before adding, "Don't miss that pile of manure in the back left corner of her stall." He laughed out loud at Ambaril's outraged expression.  
  
"But that will take all day!"  
  
"Good."  
  
"Good?" he said weakly.  
  
"You serve me for twenty four hours remember? If you finish that task, I shall put you on something much harder. Or... if you prefer..." A slow smile spread across his handsome face. "You could always do..."  
  
"No, no," Ambaril said quickly not liking the evil look in the Guardian's eyes at all. "I shall go 'Master,'" he said with contempt. He turned and walked two steps before he was called back.  
  
"What now?" he asked exasperated. He made a mental note never to bet with Haldir again.  
  
"You forgot to bow to me," Haldir answered. "I AM your master for twenty four hours and..."  
  
"Yes, yes, I know, MASTER," he said. "I will take my leave, MASTER," and bowed very stiffly at the Guardian who was howling with laughter. 'I WILL get you back for this.'  
  
~*~*~With Legolas~*~*~  
  
'Her mother gave her those marks,' he thought with disbelief. 'What kind of Elf, or Man, would do that to her own flesh and blood?' He realized now why she didn't trust him or Haldir in the beginning. How could she if all she knew in her life was pain and obedience? He longed to comfort her and tell her that not all Elves were like that but he knew she wouldn't want that.  
  
"You are not weak," he told her again.  
  
She shook her head, dark hair spilling over her face. "Yes, I am. I cannot stay in Mirkwood. I came here for a reason and I will leave once my task is complete," she said in a hallowed voice.  
  
"What task?"  
  
"You will not understand," she said in a voice unlike her own. The words weren't like hers either. It was as if she was speaking for another person. "I cannot tell you even if I wanted to."  
  
"Hithiel," he whispered, reaching out to her with his voice. "This is not what you want is it? It is not your task. Your mother sent you here to do her bidding, is that correct? You have nothing to do with whatever the task is, right?"  
  
He felt her stiffen beside him and he knew he had guessed correctly. He didn't need to hear her soft 'yes' to know he was right. "You are yourself. You don't need to listen to your mother. She is not in control of you. You need not to do her bidding. Leave her. Stay with us in Mirkwood."  
  
He had touched a part of her that had been locked away for many centuries. Her own will was always squashed beneath her mother's will and orders. It was not her fault. She had forgotten herself after being threatened and whipped countless times over the years.  
  
In the darkness of the closet, his sharp Elven eyes could see the faint glitter in her green eyes. Hesitantly, he put one arm around her. "It's okay to cry," he whispered into one delicately pointed ear.  
  
That was all the encouragement she needed and all the tears that she held back all those years finally came out. Without knowing it, she buried her head into the soft leather of Legolas's tunic, letting out all her frustration and pain. "Th-thank you, Legolas," she muttered in between sobs. She let out a shaky breath and tried to swallow her sobs.  
  
"Stay in Mirkwood. Forget your past," he said softly into her raven locks. He felt her stiffen and looked down in surprise. "What's wrong?"  
  
Hithiel let out a soft bitter laughter. "What's wrong? You make it sound so tempting. The more I linger here, the more I don't want to leave. You make it sound so simple to forget my past." She shook out her long hair. "No, that is something I cannot do. The only reason I am alive today is because my task is not yet complete."  
  
"What is your task?" Legolas pressed hoping for a real answer this time. He didn't expect her to answer him but his blood ran cold at her frosty glare and the single word that came from her throat: "Revenge."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Find her," the golden-masked figure growled impatiently. "I want her back by nightfall, understand?!"  
  
Five masked Elves bowed respectful. "Yes, milady," they all said in one voice.  
  
"Good. Failure is not an option. Go!"  
  
All five swept down in another bow before walking out of the dimly lit chamber. Their entire face was hidden, except for their eyes – cold and merciless. Swords slung across their backs, they headed westward, towards Mirkwood.  
  
~*~*~With Legolas~*~*~  
  
'Revenge... revenge...' Hithiel's haunting words echoed repeatedly in his mind as he saddled up his horse. He knew about her past now but no matter what, she wouldn't tell him whom she was taking the revenge upon.  
  
He saw her eyes back there in the dark closet. They were cold and held no pity for that Elf. She would kill that Elf, no questions asked. Now he truly understood what his old teacher had taught him many centuries ago: 'The ruthlessness of the hired killer stems from the belief that his body and mind are not his own.'  
  
He shuddered when he thought about what Hithiel would do when she finally finds her target. He knew she was acting on her mother's accord but she was still the one who would soil her hands with the victim's blood.  
  
He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts as he went for his afternoon ride. Automatically, he nudged his pure white stallion into a fast canter towards the woods nearby. The Meara whinnied softly and obediently bore its master there. It knew the path well and its footsteps where swift and sure.  
  
Legolas closed his eyes as they entered the forest, giving free rein to his horse. Without his sight, his other senses sharpened. He knew his stallion was heading for the creek in the middle of the forest. His sharp ears picked up the delicate trickle of water sliding over rocks and when he reopened his eyes, he was standing on the edge of the creek.  
  
He sighed, letting all the tension of the day drain out of him, relaxing all his muscles completely. Lazily, he sighed and started fiddling with his mount's mane.  
  
Without warning, a flash of brown disturbed the peaceful setting and the white horse reared up high, whinnying in fear. Legolas, caught off guard was bucked off the frightened stallion and tossed into the creek. His body jolted and he struggled to lift his head above the water.  
  
He sputtered and finally got back up, his golden hair was now brown from the mud and clinging to his shoulders. He grimaced as he felt a shallow cut on his arm. Finally, he looked up to see what had scared his stallion. "It's you again," the voice said before he could identify who it was.  
  
He squinted, clearing water from his eyes, leaving a dirty mud streak on his face. He focused on the Elf perched up high on the brown gelding speaking to him. Immediately, he felt a wave of anger wash over him. "What in Middle-Earth do you think you are doing?!" he sputtered unable to control his anger. His blue eyes flashed dangerously, and his mud- splattered cheeks flushed slightly.  
  
Uruviel, still on her horse stiffened. "I was riding. It was your fault for stopping in the middle of the path," she declared coldly.  
  
"Riding? You were not riding! You had absolutely no control over your horse! You should watch where you're going!"  
  
Uruviel scoffed and raised her chin. "I don't mean to boast, you Majesty, but I'm one of the best riders. I grew up with horses."  
  
"Not boasting, eh?" Legolas snapped.  
  
A pink tinge appeared on her pale face. "Well, it is the truth, Prince. And if you care to look at our positions, you will see that I have retained my position while you have not." As if to prove her point, she shifted in her seat up on the horse.  
  
Blue eyes flashed angrily. "That's only because you ran into me without a warning! It was your fault, Elfling!"  
  
"Elfling?!" she practically shrieked. "How dare you, you stupid oaf! You spoiled brat-Prince! Stupid fat oaf!"  
  
"Ok, ok, we will insult each other later. Now, would you mind?" He was getting cold in the water and he held out a hand.  
  
Automatically, without thinking, she reached down to help him up. Legolas flashed her a wicked grin and yanked hard on her arm. She yelped and plunged beneath the surface into the creek. Legolas laughed when she came surfacing back up, her hair a mess, and outfit completely ruined. He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help himself. She was such a brat! She deserved it!  
  
"Do you mean to drown me, all because you could stay on top your horse?!" she sputtered, wiping her now dark brown hair out of her face. Like, Legolas, her face was also smeared with mud.  
  
Legolas feigned innocence. "Oh, I'm so sorry, milady. As you said earlier, I'm a big fat stupid oaf. As you know from experience, we oafs are not very graceful. I TRULY didn't mean for that to happen, milady," he beseeched mockingly.  
  
Legolas laughed at her while she hurled random insults at him. Suddenly, a big ball of mud came flying towards him and he didn't duck fast enough. It hit him squarely in the middle of his forehead. He glanced over at Uruviel who smiled sweetly before ducking under the surface for more mud.  
  
He too went beneath the surface to wash the mud off. When he came back up, he was prepared for the mud balls and ducked gracefully out of the way. He laughed again when Uruviel stumbled fling the mud at him.  
  
Instead of mud, she now sprang at him like a little tigress and started pounding his chest with her small fists. He let her do it for a while until it got annoying. With one motion, he had both hands trapped in his fist and held it over her head. She was gasping for a breath and her face was red beneath the brown mud. "I hate you!" she gasped in between breaths before she toppled backwards into the water once again when Legolas tripped her.  
  
She resurfaced quickly, treading the water. "I hate you, Legolas Greenleaf! I hate you!"  
  
"As do I, Elfling," he replied smoothly getting out of the cold creek. He heard Uruviel following suit behind him.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wipe her face clean and was trying desperately to clean her dress. When she was right behind him, he nonchalantly flicked his long tresses behind him. The water and mud from the hair flew out and clung to Uruviel's face.  
  
He heard a gasp of outrage and he guessed that he hit his target. Smirking, he turned around, pretending to be shocked. "Why Uruviel, what happened to your face?"  
  
Her face turned a bright shade of red. "LEGOLAS!!!!"  
  
He laughed mockingly. "Elfling, you deserved everything you got today." He was going to add 'spoiled brat' but he decided not to press his luck.  
  
With one smooth movement, he flung his legs over his white stallion and started galloping back to the palace. 


	8. Never Knew

Disclaimer: I disowned Lord of the Rings. You can have it.  
  
Author's Note: Spring break is over, meaning updates will be slower. I'll try to do it once a week but I promise nothing. Thanks to all those who reviewed! I love you all! Oh, and will not be a...oh, I shouldn't tell you that yet. My bad! *grins* You just have to wait to see!  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
Never Knew  
  
Legolas's horse snorted as the Prince mounted it, objecting to the filthy state he was in. Clumps of dirt were stuck to the dirty blond hair and the tunic was soaking wet. As the Prince mounted, the dirt brushed onto the glossy white coat of the horse. Legolas laughed and kicked it into a gallop towards the palace.  
  
Behind him, he could hear the steady rhythm of horse hoof beats growing louder. A swift glance behind him told him Uruviel was gaining on him, seeking revenge. "I thought you said you were the better rider!" he yelled out over his shoulder.  
  
He grinned when he heard a growl coming from behind over the rhythmic pounding. "I am!" she yelled back and by now her brown gelding was sprinting next to the stallion. "I can beat you in riding any day!"  
  
"How about now?" he yelled back before nudging his stallion into a fast sprint. He felt the stallion surge forwards in response and he lost his breath at the sudden change in speed. His fists dug into the white mane and looked squarely between the two tiny ears.  
  
The brown gelding was smaller but as she had said before, she was indeed a good rider. She was balanced lightly above the brown, putting as little weight as possible on the horse. It looked so easy but when Legolas glanced to her, he saw the gelding was bathed in sweat from the exertion.  
  
Taking this advantage, he tried to nudge the stallion into an even faster tempo. It responded beautifully and outpaced the brown the last ten yards. As soon as the pair reached the stables, he leapt off, without waiting for it to slow and leaned casually on the doorway. A few seconds later, Uruviel came galloping in, her face red and hair in tangles. She glared at Legolas without saying a word. The humiliation of her defeat was enough for her.  
  
"You better change for supper," he said looking pointedly at her. He said nothing else but his eyes were mocking and shining with mirth.  
  
He walked out, leaving the enraged Elf behind to get a nice bath and a clean set of tunic. He knew he looked just as bad as she did. He slipped in quietly, praying that no one would see him like this.  
  
As he walked quietly down the hallway to his room, he found Haldir doubled over with laughter. "Are you okay, Haldir?" he asked walking up to his friend.  
  
Haldir's face was red from laughing and he tried to respond he was laughing to hard. He took one look at Legolas's state and burst into new peals of laughter. The Prince shook his head and started to lead the Guardian back into his room without alerting too much attention.  
  
Hithiel was already in there, where he had left her before he went riding. She was perched next to the window, her green eyes following the trails of falling leaves.  
  
"Pray tell what's so funny?" he asked when he slid the wooden door shut.  
  
"Your brother, Ambaril," he said with an evil smirk. "I made him dust my boots."  
  
"Is that it?" Legolas could see there was more and was surprised that Ambaril would ever lower himself to do that.  
  
"Oh, yes! Lots! I made him groom my horse, clean out his barn, polish his hooves, plait his mane and tail, and get rid of the big manure pile at the very back of the barn that has been there for weeks!" A wide smile was plastered to his face as he reported everything he made the Eldest Son of Thranduil do.  
  
Legolas smirked as he imagined his brother mucking out the stalls. He would reek of manure once he was finished. Of course, that was probably Haldir's plan all along. "How did you get him to do that?" he wondered out loud.  
  
"A bet," he said simply. "I won."  
  
"But what if you lost?" he asked. "Would your punishment be this bad?"  
  
Haldir waved his hand dismissively. "I only had to run around the courtroom naked acting like a Dwarf."  
  
Azure eyes grew wide. "Only?! You ONLY had to... Oh, Valor. What if you lost?! How could you?"  
  
"I didn't lose," the Guardian insisted. "I won't lose a bet like that!"  
  
"What was the bet on?"  
  
"That I was faster than him," he said. "And I am, so now he is my servant for twenty-four hours. I would never lose a race like that."  
  
"Oh really?" A new voice joined the conversation. The two male Elves turned around in surprise. "Can you beat me?" Hithiel said with I small grin.  
  
A smile curved on Haldir's face. He looked her up and down, sizing her up. "Probably," he said with a shrug. He was surprised but pleased that she started talking to him. He remembered all too well when they first met and she had tried to slice his ear off.  
  
Emerald glittered with excitement of competition. "Another bet then, Haldir. If you win-"  
  
"If I win, you will tell us everything about you and your past," he interrupted.  
  
He saw her eyes grow wide. She swallowed. "Fine, but if I win, I don't have to and I get a rematch!" Her eyes sparkled defiantly. "Last time we sparred. Legolas interfered. If he didn't, I wouldn't have lost."  
  
"Deal, mellon," he said confidently. [Friend]  
  
'Mellon! He called me a friend! I have... a friend...' A strange feeling welled up inside of her and she couldn't place a finger on what it was. It was like she had someone to trust. A friend. It was all new to her. She had never felt happiness in her life before, or ever had someone to trust.  
  
"Hithiel?" Haldir's concerned voice broke through her foggy thoughts. Her eyes snapped back to the situation at hand.  
  
"What? Still think you can beat me?" she mocked. But her voice was not unfriendly like the cold tone she use to address them in.  
  
Legolas smiled faintly. He saw that she was finally open to them, even to Haldir. Maybe they could find out more about this Elf and her past. That is... if Haldir won the bet.  
  
"If I can beat Ambaril, I can beat anyone," he boasted confidently. Legolas sighed. Haldir never changed and his ego was already inflated today by his triumph over his brother.  
  
Hithiel smirked rather evilly. "Fine, let's go."  
  
The two of them left the room to seek an open field in which they would race in with Legolas trailing behind.  
  
"This should work," said Haldir thoughtfully looking at the field along the edge of the woods in which Legolas got thrown into the creek earlier. "I'll give you a chance to forfeit if you want," he offered.  
  
Hithiel made a noise that sounded like between a snort and a laugh and shook her head, causing ripples of black to roll down her back. With a smirk, she crouched down, all muscles tense and waiting for the signal from Legolas.  
  
"Go!" a clear voice rang out and the two seasoned warriors sprang off. All the tension from her exploded and she shot forward, hair streaming behind her like a banner. She pumped her legs furiously, trying to get the upper hand. Haldir was right next to her, just a little bit ahead...  
  
~*~*~With Uruviel~*~*~  
  
"I HATE that Legolas Greenleaf! I HATE HIM!! I HATE HIM!!" she rambled to her personal servant. The servant was usually a good friend and someone to confide in but now, she didn't care if she seemed rude to Aldalome. (A/N: Elf of Lothlorien from FOTR)  
  
Aldalome patiently listened as Uruviel rattled off why she hated the prince and what a despicable creature he was. "He can't be that bad right? I mean, he's the prince!"  
  
"A stupid Prince," Uruviel snarled back. "He's just another stupid lumbering oaf! That BASTARD!! I don't even want to LOOK at him! I want to KILL him!"  
  
"Don't do anything rash, milady," Aldalome replied patiently, use to seeing Uruviel's fits of temper and wasn't at all surprised as she brushed the long, newly washed brown hair.  
  
"Rash?!" Uruviel whirled around to face her servant, her eyes narrowed into slits. "I am never RASH! He deserves to die! That son of an orc!"  
  
Aldalome quietly turned her around again and began to plait the hair. "I could kill him. I really could," the young Elf muttered. Aldalome smothered a giggle at this. "He deserves it! Can you believe it? He called me an ELFLING! An ELFLING?! Can you believe the nerve of that Elf!"  
  
Aldalome decided to keep her opinions to herself, not to anger her lady anymore than she already was. With ease, she twisted the long plait around into an elegant coil at the base of Uruviel's neck. "I could just wring his slimy neck! I HATE him! He's out to ruin my LIFE!" She paused to draw breath before rattling on. "I can't believe Father sent me here for HIM! I HATE Mirkwood! I HATE this palace! I HATE this room! And most of all I HATE LEGOLAS GREENLEAF!!" she bellowed, her face turning red from all the yelling.  
  
"Why do you despise him so much?" Aldalome wondered out loud.  
  
She felt Uruviel stiffen in anger. "First of all, he mocks me. All the time. He is always making fun of me. Second of all, he is an annoying little bastard who deserves to rot in Mordor. Third, he pushed me into the creek and almost drowned me. Four, it's because of HIM that my father sent me here in the first place. Fifth, I hate his stupid laugh. Sixth,--"  
  
"Ok, ok I get the point," Aldalome cut off. She really didn't want to listen to her lady's repetitive 101 Reasons Why I Hate Legolas Greenleaf again.  
  
"He is a stupid, arrogant, ungrateful son of an ORC!!" Uruviel yelled again.  
  
Aldalome winced, sure that someone would've heard this racket and come in to check on them. "Lower your voice, milady. You don't want Legolas barging in on you when you're dressed like that," she gestured to the silky white under gown that Uruviel was currently dressed in.  
  
Uruviel winced. "No I do not," she said a bit softer. "I never want to see him nor talk to him again!"  
  
Aldalome sighed, quickly growing bored of the talk about this Legolas Greenleaf. "Milady, I really don't think he is as bad as you say he is," she said cautiously now admiring her work. "I've heard great tale about him in my homeland and you know his is famed for his kindness and skill for the bow."  
  
"Skill my butt!" Uruviel snapped rudely. "I wish I could just KILL him!"  
  
Aldalome chuckled dryly. "I don't think that is possible, milady. He is your Prince and you are to wed him. If you kill him, you will have no one to marry."  
  
Uruviel's eyes grew wide and she whirled around to face her servant. "What?! I'm not marrying that brat! I can't stand him! I'll – wait. What did you say? The last part?"  
  
"What? If you kill him, you will have no one else to marry?"  
  
"Yes!" Uruviel said clapping her hands together. "If I kill him now, I won't have to marry him! Then I can go back and live in the Golden Woods again! This is perfect! And I know just how to kill him." She eyes were shining maliciously. "Aldalome, you must do this for me and tell no one, understand?"  
  
Aldalome swallowed hard not liking where this conversation was going. But she had no choice but to comply to her lady's will. "Yes, my lady Uruviel? What his your wish?"  
  
With a small smile, she whispered something very softly in her pointed ears. Aldalome's soft brown eyes grew wide but she quickly composed herself. "Understand?" Uruviel said when she was done.  
  
Aldalome moistened her suddenly dry lips. "Yes, milady," she said weakly.  
  
"Good. Now go!"  
  
Aldalome bowed quickly and rushed out of the room to do her master's bidding.  
  
~*~*~With Haldir~*~*~  
  
'Must win this bet!' he thought desperately. He pumped his legs even harder, his eyes wandered off to the side to look at Hithiel. Her face was shining with sweat but she didn't slow down one bit.  
  
His handsome features curled into a small smile and he looked back to his destination. He blinked and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black whirl to his right heading straight for Hithiel.  
  
Instinctively, he pushed Hithiel out of the way and ignored her cry of surprise. He also got down and dropped to the side of her. She looked at him with accusing eyes for cheating on the bet but soon they widened with understanding. She looked back towards the black whirl that stopped moving and now prowled around the two of them. Behind him, Legolas was rushing towards him at full speed, knives drawn.  
  
Hithiel's piercing green eyes narrowed onto the black warrior who drew his sword quickly. He looked very familiar. The black figure advanced towards the two of them and Haldir quickly got up, pulling her to her feet. Her still injured back scraped the tunic and she winced slightly. Haldir also drew his sword but when she reached for her long knives, she found that they weren't there. Suddenly, she remembered that her knives were taken by Haldir and Legolas and she still didn't get them back yet. Cursing at herself, she faced the unknown enemy weaponless.  
  
There was a flash as the sword hit sword and the figure and Haldir's met and locked. The two wielders pressed hard to gain the upper hand but they were equally skilled. The interlocked blades slid to the pommel and were locked. Neither could move without exposing themselves. Haldir decided to risk it and swung the enjoined blades high up and while the black figure's chest was exposed, Hithiel caught a fast glimpse of a small silver badge.  
  
Her heart seemed to skip a beat when she saw that. 'The badge of allegiance,' she thought. 'Mother sent her!' And indeed as she looked closely, she realized that it was not a him but a her. Her mother never trusted men and every person in her small home was female. 'Mother sent her, but why? They are her private guards so why did she send them out? How did they find me?'  
  
As she stood there, weaponless and pondering, two more of them leapt out from behind and grabbed Hithiel. Hithiel recognized them and hissed softly, "Let me go!"  
  
She struggled and tried to swing a fist at the masked figure but it was easily countered. 'Of course. Mother just had to teach them everything she taught me,' she thought rather sarcastically. She kicked out at the two opponents but without a weapon, she could only resort to martial arts. She ducked and countered their attacked but slowly, they were pressing her back.  
  
"Hithiel!" Legolas shouted from behind, his white knives glittering in the setting sun. He sprang on them and the two warriors quickly drew their sword and the ringing clang of steel on steel could be heard all across Mirkwood.  
  
'They are here for me,' Hithiel realized quickly. 'Mother wouldn't have sent them if she didn't want them to retrieve me.' She stumbled back away from the flashing knives. 'I don't want to leave. I don't want to go back. Ever. I'm happy here.'  
  
A silvery cry broke her from her thoughts and her heart leapt to her throat. It was Legolas. She whipped her head around to see Legolas's right arm bleeding from a deep gash and now the black figure was advancing on him with sword raised and poised to kill.  
  
"No!" Hithiel yelled running at her and jerking the arm back before the sword point reached the Prince. Legolas's eyes were swimming with pain as she struggled to get up and use his one remaining good arm to fight.  
  
The black warrior flung Hithiel off her arm and now sheathed her weapon. The other one did the same and advanced on Hithiel. "You are going back, Princess," one of them said so softly that Legolas could not hear. "Your mother wants you back tonight," she said.  
  
Hithiel shook her head, her eyes wide. She didn't know why she was defying her mother but she knew she wanted to remain in Mirkwood. She backed away slowly, leading them away from the wounded Elf. "No. Not yet," she said in an equally soft voice but it was sharp and commanding. "Thranduil is not yet dead." From the corner of her eye, she saw two more servants of her mother coming towards Legolas. 'Run, Legolas, run! Save yourself!' she cried silently.  
  
The two nodded. "We know. But your mother wants you back TODAY! We didn't want to do this but--" With lightning fast speed, cloth was drawn from within the tunic and whipped around Hithiel's hands and feet. The Elves, jerked upwards and she collapsed in a heap on the floor.  
  
"No!" Hithiel yelled struggling desperately trying to free herself. They began to tie the length of cloth together and she struggled even harder. With a burst of energy, she wrenched her hands free and grabbed one of them by the neck.  
  
She coughed and sputtered as Hithiel began to squeeze. "No," she hissed, her eyes flashing with deadly green fire. The other Elf stopped and froze when she saw her comrade begin to choke. "Not today. Tell my mother that I will be back once I finish my task. Tell her this time, I will succeed and kill Thranduil." Her voice was cold and expressionless. The Elf in her hand was quickly dying and right when she was about to faint, she released her and threw her to the ground. "Call off your warriors." She saw a flicker of doubt cross in her eyes.  
  
"But your mother said--" began the other Elf but Hithiel silenced her with a glare.  
  
"I don't care what she said! I said call off you warriors! NOW!" Hithiel commanded, surprised at herself for defying her mother.  
  
The Elf was still regaining her breath. She threw Hithiel one last hopeless glanced before letting out a shrill birdcall. The three fighting ones froze when they heard the call and took something from their tunic. Hithiel knew what was going to happen next. Her mother was extremely skillful in everything stealth. Silent poison and deadly gases were her specialty.  
  
The three fighters, threw the tiny object on the ground, emitting a gas- like fog. She looked at the two that she was talking to and found that they too were under the cover to the gas. She was use to it and walked in it easily to Legolas who was nearby and coughing from the gas. His pale face was red from inhalation but Hithiel knew that the gas wasn't really dangerous. It was only used for cover and to slip away unnoticed. Grimly, she helped the Prince to his feet. The gash on his arm was nothing serious but it will need to be bound to stop the blood flow. "Haldir?" she called out into the gray mist.  
  
"Aye, I am here," he called back. Hithiel tracked the voice to its owner and found Haldir looking around for his opponent.  
  
"Let's go back," she said quickly, gesturing to Legolas. "He is injured."  
  
Haldir's eyes widened but nodded quickly as all three of them left to go back to the palace to have dinner – with Uruviel.  
  
Ugh. So tired. Sorry if I made any spelling errors and stuff but I'm half- asleep right now. I really need to find a good place to stop. Ok, reviews responses are below and the next chapter will be posted up soon!...I hope.  
  
Flaredancer: Oh good! You were the first one to catch on to that! I was wondering how many people would figure that out. Yes, Legolas and Hithiel are half siblings but they don't know that yet. It might sound like incest but trust me, it isn't. I'm not making this one an incest so there will be a couple more twists. There is also something else that I was hoping someone will catch. It has something to do with what Ambaril had said in one of the earlier chapters: You Were Wrong.  
  
S* Quilltwiner: Cool! I love your names! Quilltwiner, Penweaver. Very cool! Yup, like Flaredancer, you figured that part out! I promise, this is not going to be incest because I'm going to put a lot more twists in the plot. Hehe, and there is something else that you and Flaredancer didn't catch yet. I'll give you a hint, it's in the chapter You Were Wrong at the very beginning in Ambaril's little POV. And it has something to do with Hithiel. That's all I'm going to say but even if you don't catch it, I'll tell you in a couple more chapters.  
  
Brazgirl: Yes! Play is good and I LOVE making characters sound like little stupid brats! Lol especially Uruviel. I don't know why, her shot in Fellowship of the Ring made her look so... snooty I guess. Ok, fine, well, she looked snooty to me. *grins* Haldir DID win the bet! That's why Ambaril had to be his servant. But if he lost... hehe ^-^U yes I know I'm kinda perverted but wouldn't you like to see Haldir like that?  
  
Lorien angel: Is this update count as 'soon'? lol Thank you SO much for reviewing!  
  
Cherryfaerie: Uhh... you probably found out by now but she was an Elf of Lothlorien sent to Mirkwood by her father to wed Legolas so he could inherit the throne. She appeared once in FotR and she looked really snooty so I guess that's why I made her such an annoying lil' brat! Lol Update your fic soon! I love it!  
  
A'mael: How do you pronounce your name? Just wondering. No, I don't mind swearing a lot. Update your story soon! I hate it when people leave a story on a cliff!! I NEED to know what happens next! Please update!!  
  
DarkCloudSurfer: Yup, it's ol' Hithiel again! No, you can't have her this time either since she's my favorite OC. Uruviel is a brat and now she's off on a killing rampage. Can't it get any better?  
  
The Camel: Any violence would make you happy wouldn't it? Well, Legolas got INJURED in this chapter so is that enough violence for you? Me? Disturbed? Nah! You like blowing people up so I wouldn't be talking!  
  
KeeperOfNenya: Very cool name, Galadriel! Lol jk! Anyways, thanks for reviewing! Man, you are loyal!  
  
Tinuviel88: Have you ever thought about getting an account? *shrugs* Just wondering. Yeah, I would LOVE to see a naked Haldir! Yum! Ok, maybe not like that but... ya know?...  
  
LotrFreako: Mmm-hmm. I think you got most of the important details but you and the two other people all missed one little thing about Hithiel. Try to find it but I'm telling ya, it's a REALLY small detail.  
  
Mithithiel: Oh, yes, she defiantly deserved that one! My friend did that to me and so, that's where I got the idea! 


	9. Your Own Poison

Disclaimer: *deep breath* Idon'townLordoftheRingssodon'tsueme!  
  
Author's Note: I have no idea about Middle-earth's technology so don't blame me if I get some stuff wrong, ok? Oh yes, and iocane is taken from The Princess Bride. I don't own that either. This story will have lots of stealth stuff like poisons, gases, sneaking, and all that stuff.  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
Your Own Poison  
  
"Hithiel! Please? Won't you dine with us tonight? You must be hungry!" Legolas pleaded as his wrist was bound tightly by Haldir.  
  
Hithiel shook her dark head again. "Nay, Legolas. I do not wish to see other Elves." She bit her lip nervously wondering if he would accept this excuse. "And besides, I'm not hungry." In truth, she was starving but she managed to keep her hunger in control.  
  
"Why?" Now Haldir fixed a questioning stare at her. "There's not going to be anyone. Just Thranduil, some officials, and us."  
  
"Don't forget Uruviel," Legolas added gloomily. "She probably wants to kill me by now."  
  
"Oh, yes. Our little Elfling," he smirked.  
  
Hithiel looked curious but Legolas brushed it off. "Come on, Hithiel! I promise, there will be no other!"  
  
'But there will be Thranduil,' she said silently. 'He might still recognize me.' Her hands instinctively inched towards her long knives that had been returned to her. 'But it was also a perfect opportunity to kill him.'  
  
~*~*~Dining Hall~*~*~  
  
"Did Galdor return yet?" Thranduil asked tersely to one of his court officials. "It is far past noon. He knows that's when the spiders are awake and hunting." Worry etched itself on the King's old face.  
  
A golden haired Elf inclined his head slightly. "Not yet, milord. You will be alerted immediately prior to his return."  
  
Thranduil sighed and sank deeper into a soft plush chair and stared avidly at the gleaming silver plate in front of him.  
  
"Ada!" Thranduil looked up and managed a smile at his youngest son. Haldir and another Elf was with him. A slight frown flitted across his face as he looked at the lithe dark-haired Elf. 'Her face... It looks like...'  
  
"Ada, this is Hithiel," Legolas announced. "Haldir and I found her injured in Mirkwood. She's staying with us until she heals."  
  
All thoughts vanished from the King and he smiled warmly at her. "My entire household and I are at your service," he said to her.  
  
Hithiel's eyes widened slightly but managed a polite thanks. 'That face... it looks so familiar...' Thranduil couldn't help but think. He kept on glancing at her as she took her seat next to Legolas.  
  
He stared at her green eyes the most. 'Didn't she have... No, lots of Elves have green eyes,' he thought.  
  
Suddenly a muddied rider burst into the hall. Dirty riding boots tracked mud across the marble floor but he didn't seem to care. Wide blue eyes sought to find the King. "Milord!" he gasped. "The warriors... Galdor..."  
  
Thranduil immediately rose and his eyes flashed like lightning from calm and peaceful to warrior-mode. "What happened? Tell me!" he boomed.  
  
"Galdor... I don't know, milord... He set off with twelve others." The rider paused to catch his breath. "Galdor's horse showed up a few moments earlier. No rider. We sent out a search party to see if the horse threw Galdor off--"  
  
"Galdor would never fall off a horse!" the King said disgusted. "Continue."  
  
"Yes, milord. The search party didn't find anything. No trace of anything. They found the remains of a few horses but the riders disappeared. No trace of them left except..."  
  
"Except what?" the King snapped impatiently.  
  
The rider rummaged through a pocket. "Except this," he said holding up a ring.  
  
Thranduil's eyes widened in worry. He recognized it immediately as Galdor's. It was the ring that signifies the captain of the royal guard. The golden band was caked with mud and bore Mirkwood's insignia. Two small leaves decorated the sides of it and the inside band was covered with ruins.  
  
Thranduil took it with trembling hands. "Galdor..." he whispered.  
  
"He's gone," the rider said softly knowing what the King was going through.  
  
"No... no. I don't believe it. I don't believe it! Galdor can't die! Not now!"  
  
"But milord, we cannot find his body. This is all that's left of him including his horse!"  
  
"No! Galdor is not dead! He can't be! He won't die like that! He wouldn't!" Thranduil practically shouted. He quickly composed himself, trying to ignore the pain in his heart at losing one of his closest friend. 'He's not dead,' he tried to tell himself. "Order another search party," he commanded. "Find Galdor's body. Until then, I will not believe that he is dead," he said softly hoping that the rider did not hear the tremor in his voice.  
  
"Cover all the grounds. Leave nothing unchecked," he continued. "Find him." His eyes pleaded the rider. "Please. Find Galdor!"  
  
Taken aback by the King's emotions, the rider bowed quickly and ran out again with orders. "Ada?" Legolas questioned from behind. They had heard everything and now the King was just standing there holding Galdor's ring.  
  
He turned slowly towards his son and swallowed. "Legolas, take care of Uruviel when she gets here. Make her happy and take care of your friend there," he nodded at Hithiel. "I need to take care of some things," he said before walking off.  
  
Legolas nodded at his father's turned back. 'Who attacked Galdor? Who would be so powerful as to defeat him?' Galdor was the captain of the guards as well as his former tutor. It was he that had taught him all his skill with the bow and white knives. Although Legolas's skill with the bow soon surpassed his teacher, he still could never beat him in a sparring match. "Who could kill Galdor?" he asked out loud to no one in particular.  
  
Haldir opened his mouth to reply but before he could answer, a small feminine voice cut him off. "Where's Thranduil?" Uruviel demanded. Behind her, the servant Aldalome followed with her head bowed, eyes shifting guiltily.  
  
Legolas's temper flared immediately but he forced him to be calm. "He's busy. Can I help you?" he said in a forced calm voice.  
  
She sneered and Hithiel immediately knew that she was the 'Elfling' Haldir and Legolas were talking about earlier. "Oafs like you wouldn't understand," she said smugly. Hithiel's eyes flared and she felt a rush of defensiveness towards Legolas.  
  
"Sit down," Legolas said in a strained voice.  
  
"I don't take orders from you," she retorted but she sat down anyways opposite to the three. Aldalome stood a little off to the side. "I'm hungry," she said calmly. "Where's the food?"  
  
"Even someone as stupid as you should know that it isn't done yet," Hithiel said coldly glaring at her. She didn't know why but she hated her the moment she saw her.  
  
Uruviel raised a dark eyebrow and looked her up and down. "And who are you? No one important by the looks of it," she scoffed. "Aldalome, I'm hungry. Fix us something to eat." She caught her servant's eye and stared meaningfully.  
  
Aldalome tipped her head slightly to acknowledge it. "Yes, milady," she said softly and bustled out with her head bowed.  
  
She closed the door to the kitchen and found an empty fireplace. She looked around at the other Elves. No one seem to notice her so she decided it was safe. 'Ok, something very easy to cook... soup!' She looked around for the ingredients and threw them all into a large cooking pot. She hung it over the fireplace and waited until it was boiling. She stirred it nervously, sure that any moment, someone will catch her and turn her in to the guards.  
  
After the mixture was bubbling hot, she removed it carefully from the fireplace and set the pot on a table. "ALDALOME!!" a voice shouted from outside, scaring the Elf so that she jumped slightly. "ARE YOU DONE YET?!"  
  
"Not yet!" she replied. She rummaged through a small cupboard for a bowl and began spooning hot soup into it. "ALDALOME!!"  
  
"Coming!" she shouted back. She stared, wondering what she was going to do next. With trembling hands, she reached into a small pocket in her gown and withdrew a small white packet.  
  
Her hands shook violently as she eyed it. Having no choice, she opened the packet slowly, careful not to get any of the clear white powder on herself. She closed her eyes briefly, ready to tilt the powder into Legolas's bowl of soup. "ALDALOME!!!" shrieked her mistress from outside. Aldalome jumped and the packed flew from her hands.  
  
Her eyes widened in horror and she let out a small "Eep!" The white powder had slipped out of her hands and spilled onto the table—and the soup in the main pot instead of just in the bowl. Her master's order was to put it in a single bowl not all of it. With a trembling hand, she peered into the pot. The powder was already dissolved. None of the powder had gone into the small bowl. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?!"  
  
"Coming!" she shouted desperately. 'Not good! Oh my Valor! She's going to kill me! I'm so dead!' she thought frantically. 'Ok, get calm. One more pot of soup... make another pot of soup... right.' She quickly scraped the powder that had spilled on the table into the packet and refolded it, leaving the other soup on the table. She ran off, grabbing ingredients and throwing them randomly into a pot, praying for more time from her mistress.  
  
~*~*~With Uruviel~*~*~  
  
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?!" she shouted, slightly hoarse from the dining hall.  
  
Legolas, Haldir and Hithiel winced slightly, wishing to cover their delicate Elven ears from the Elfling's hysterical shrieks. "Calm yourself," Haldir muttered, annoyed.  
  
Uruviel threw him a glare and continued to pout. After a few silent minutes passed, "ALDALOME!!"  
  
The three glared at the Lorien Elf who just stared at the empty plates moodily. "I'm going to check on her," she finally announced, standing up. Sighs of relief was heard from behind but she ignored them for now. 'You are so dead, Legolas. You won't be so smug for long now.'  
  
After taking a few hesitant turns, she arrived at the kitchens. Scowling in dismay, she stepped daintily inside as to now soil her rich green gown. The warm aroma of food encircled her and her stomach growled hungrily. Ignoring it, she went in search of Aldalome. She had the packet that contained iocane powder, deadliest poison known to Man, and Elves. It was completely odorless and would dissolve immediately into any liquid. She had ordered her servant to purchase it and slip it into Legolas's meal.  
  
Grinning slightly, she poked her head into several rooms before coming across the one that Aldalome was in a few minutes ago. She walked in cautiously and surveyed the pot of soup shimmering slightly on the table. Next to it was a small bowl already filled with the broth. Uruviel walked quietly to the contents and gently picked it up. 'Aldalome must've left it here. She probably slipped the powder in it already.' She narrowed her eyes and sure enough, she saw a few tiny, tiny grains of the powder on the table.  
  
She broke into a wide grin and gingerly picked up the large pot with one hand. With the other, she held the bowl that would be Legolas's. Careful not to spill a single drop she walked awkwardly out of the kitchens back into the dining hall.  
  
"Soup's here!" she announced a bit too cheerfully. She set the pot in the middle of the long banquet table and the bowl directly in front of the Prince.  
  
Legolas looked at his soup suspiciously and cocked an elegant eyebrow at her. "What have I done to deserve such an honor?" gesturing to the specially prepared bowl.  
  
Haldir, who was reaching for the pot of soup froze. "It's poisoned," he said flatly, withdrawing his hand as if the pot had scalded him. "Don't, Legolas."  
  
"How would YOU know, pathetic Guardian?" Uruviel sneered. "Why would I want to poison my husband-to-be?"  
  
Hithiel narrowed her eyes violently. "Because you don't want to marry him. You hate him, don't you? You want to get rid of him so you can go back to your own life. Admit it, Uruviel." She nearly spat out her name.  
  
Uruviel winced slightly that she was able to see through her so easily but she quickly regained her composure. "Sure, I hate him. I admit that. But I wouldn't want to poison him. I WAS trying to be nicer to him. I really was but it wasn't working so I decided that MAYBE if I do that, he might respect just a LITTLE bit more," she said a-matter-of-factly.  
  
Haldir grimaced. "Don't trust her, Legolas. It's poisoned. I know it," he whispered fearing for the safety of his friend.  
  
"It's your choice, Legolas," Uruviel said, her face betraying anything. "You can go on thinking that I poisoned that bowl of soup, or you can trust me and drink it. You people all misjudge me. I don't have to be rude or anything. I treat you the exact same way that you treat me," she said stubbornly.  
  
Legolas's eyes were clouded. He trusted his friends with all his heart, especially Haldir's instincts but he didn't want to misjudge Uruviel. He had been doing that to her all along and he knew he didn't treat her that well either. If he didn't trust Uruviel now, he'd never will. He had to show that he trusted her to rebuild the rift between them.  
  
His clear blue eyes locked onto her dark brown. "I trust you," he said firmly. "I will not misjudge you, Uruviel. I trust you. If there really isn't poison in here, I will always believe you from then on. But if there is..." He let his voice trail off, noting that her eyes had dilated slightly. His resolve wavered slightly but he knew he had to gain her trust and rebuild the rift.  
  
"Legolas, don't!" Hithiel pleaded by his side. "At least let me first taste it. I don't trust that Elf, so neither should you!"  
  
"Hithiel, I must trust her. I believe that she means me no harm, even if she does hate me. She has all the right to hate me since I dragged her into the creek and everything." From Hithiel's blank stare, he knew that she didn't understand his thinking. She had gone through several lives of Man without a friend and not trusting a single soul in all Arda, taking orders from a mother who was heartless and cruel.  
  
"Legolas--" Haldir began but stopped when Legolas picked up the bowl and started drinking the thick broth. His eyes widened in fear. "Legolas! Are you mad?" He wrenched the bowl from Legolas's grip but found that the Prince had already drained its entire contents.  
  
Uruviel was staring at the Prince grinning. "I told you it wasn't poisoned," she said smugly. 'Yes! Finally I will be rid of you! The poison will take effect shortly,' she thought now feeling the hunger that had been forgotten when she was busy fighting for her innocence. Now it had returned and she helped herself to the shimmering broth in the pot.  
  
"No, it wasn't," the Prince repeated looking at Haldir.  
  
"But it could be," protested Haldir. "Maybe it was! It just didn't take effect yet!"  
  
"I was so sure that there was poison in there," admitted Hithiel casting down her eyes and getting some soup.  
  
"But there wasn't," Legolas said cheerfully. "I'm still alive and whole."  
  
'Not for long,' Uruviel silently said.  
  
~*~*~With Aldalome~*~*~  
  
Lugging the heavy pot that was filled to the brim with hot soup, she returned to her little station. 'Huh? I thought I left the other pot in here.' She looked at the empty table with a puzzled expression that was immediately chased away by one of horror. 'Oh my Valor! Did Uruviel or another servant actually SERVE IT?!' That was the batch that was accidentally poisoned.  
  
She dropped the pot with a heavy thud on the wooden table and sat down, eyes unfocused and unseeing. 'Oh, Valor. Lady Uruviel is going to kill me.'  
  
As if accepting her fate, she walked out stiffly towards the dinging hall where her master was. "Where were you, Aldalome? We're nearly finished," Uruviel's cheery tone greeted her.  
  
Aldalome sank silently into an empty chair, eyes still staring straight ahead, face twisted in horror. "Did you--"  
  
"Yes, where were you? We were all starved!" Uruviel exclaimed. Then she looked away from her as other servants now came in bearing the main course. She took one last spoonful of soup and pushed the bowl away.  
  
"Lady Uruviel?" Aldalome asked tentatively tugging on the sleeve of her mistress's gown.  
  
"What?" Uruviel asked impatiently eyeing a plump pheasant.  
  
"Umm... I don't know how to say this but..." She took a deep breath. "WhenyouscreamedIaccidentallydroppedthepowderintothemainpotofsoupnotLegolas' sandthatwastheonethatyouandtheothersjusthad," she said very quickly hoping to get it over with soon.  
  
"What? I didn't hear a single thing you said. Say it again slower," Uruviel said.  
  
Aldalome's heart sank. She took another deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. "I accidentally dropped the iocane in the pot of soup, not Legolas's bowl," she said very quietly into Uruviel's pointed ear.  
  
"What?" Uruviel breathed. "Are you telling me that we all just ate IOCANE POWDER?!?!" she said her voice getting louder and louder until she was screaming.  
  
Iocane powder?! Legolas, Hithiel, and Haldir immediately spat out the food they just ate on to the once white tablecloth and looked horrified.  
  
Aldalome nodded dumbly. Hithiel was the first to break the silence. "I told you not to trust her! I warned you! Now look what she has done! We are all going to DIE!!"  
  
"Me?! I didn't want that to happen! Do you think I want to die?! I only told her to slip it into Legolas's--" she slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing that she had said too much.  
  
"You told her to only slip it on mine but she accidentally put it in both, right?" Legolas asked in an icy voice that Haldir had never heard him use before. Even he shuddered and looked away from Legolas's imposing figure.  
  
"There wasn't any in Legolas's," muttered Aldalome softly. "When my mistress screamed... I jumped and it spilt in everything BUT Legolas's."  
  
Uruviel rounded on her now. "You are WORTHLESS! I don't even know why I put up with you! I'm going to KILL you! You miserable little WRENCH!" She reached out and slapped her servant hard across the face. Aldalome's head jerked back and fell back from the force of the blow. "I'm going to KILL you!!" Uruviel shrieked and backhanded Aldalome who stood with her head bowed, waiting for her punishment to fall.  
  
"That's enough!" called out Hithiel from behind.  
  
"No it isn't," Uruviel hissed. "She deserves to die! You hear that?" She pointed an accusing finger. "You deserve to DIE!!" She reached over to slap her again but fell. When she rose again, she was bent over and clutching her stomach, face contorted in pain. "What?" Her face was filled with shock.  
  
Hithiel winced too. She had also felt a pang in her stomach. 'Maybe the iocane powder finally took effect,' she thought grimly. She summoned up all her life force and concentrated on ridding the poison like her mother had taught her. Unlike most Elves, she could survive intense poisoning because her mother had built up her immunity to poisons. Her mother worked with poisons and silent death all those years and she too had become a master at it, working along side her. Iocane was one of the stronger ones but she had to survive. Her task was not yet complete!  
  
Uruviel moaned in pain again, clutching her stomach. "What is this?" she demanded weakly, looking heatedly at Aldalome who was nervously shifting from one foot to another.  
  
"Well, there is something else too..." she began hesitantly. She became intensely interested at the marble swirls on the floor. "I couldn't bring myself to poison the Prince Legolas so..."  
  
"So?" gritted out Uruviel who was filled with new rage once more but too weak to let it out.  
  
"So, instead of buying iocane, I bought white oak powder," she said guiltily.  
  
"ALDALOME!!"  
  
Uruviel made a mad grab at the servant girl but missed. She tumbled onto the floor with a shriek. Too weak to get up, she laid there panting until she felt a shadow cover her. Slowly she raised her proud head. It was Legolas. His features were hardened so it looked as if he was carved out of solid stone. She swallowed hard but tilted her chin up defiantly.  
  
"So you did try to poison me," he said quietly. It was a statement and it fell hard in the still air. "I did misjudge you. I thought I could trust you but I was wrong." Even Uruviel winced when she heard that. "I was wrong," he continued. "You have lost what little respect you had." His eyes did not glitter but were dark and hard like coals.  
  
"You are nothing but a spoiled little brat." Uruviel's face flushed red and the boiling anger in her veins finally erupted. She was still bent over in pain and with a quivering hand, she reached into the folds of her gown.  
  
"I hate you Legolas Greenleaf," she uttered weakly and with one swift stroke, she swung her arm up, revealing a glittering dagger. Legolas gaped in surprise but was too slow to dodge it. As it came down from its arc, it buried itself into his side.  
  
Hehe, another cliffie. I try to update every Saturday but this Saturday I have a stupid violin concert so I'll give it to you early. Wish me luck! Please review! That would make my day! Flamers are welcome! They will add to my review count so it's all good! 


	10. Realizations

Disclaimer: Why bother? I don't own anything or anyone but myself.  
  
Author's Note: Soooooo sorry!! This was the FIRST time EVER that I didn't update ever single Saturday. Very, very sorry so I'll TRY to make this one longer ok? Guess I'm getting lazy. Oh yes, White Oak just causes a lot of pain. Nothing more but in REAL LIFE, its suppose to make you blind. Someone kick my butt so I can start writing again. Really! I need someone to kick my butt!  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
Realizations  
  
Legolas gasped, his eyes wide and unseeing. He felt a warm trickle down his side and he knew it was his own rich blood staining his tunic. Feeling sick with a knife protruding from his side, he swayed unsteadily, only to be caught on Haldir and Hithiel's arms. His fingers groped instinctively for the dagger and he felt his fingers close around a cool metal handle. The strength was already draining out of him and it felt as if every movement required twice as much energy as usual.  
  
A cry burst unwillingly from his pale lips as he retched the dagger from his body, causing a new spurt of blood to shower forth. At this point, he could no longer distinguish the different Elves around him. His vision grew fuzzy and gray, fading slowly to black.  
  
With Thranduil  
  
'Galdor is not dead. He is NOT dead!' he told himself over and over again. His fingers rubbed the smooth surface of the Guard's ring in anxiety.  
  
His golden hair whipped furiously around his head as he paced around his room. His heart ached with the loss of his friend but he was still trying to convince himself the death was not for sure. 'The body. They still didn't find his body yet.' He allowed a faint ray of hope break through his dark thoughts but it was soon crushed by a feeling of repulsion when he thought about Galdor's dead body.  
  
His nerves were on edge so when the door knocked, he practically ran to answer it, banging his leg in the process. "What news?" he demanded immediately, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg.  
  
The rider quailed under such an intense gaze from the King. "N-nothing, your Majesty. There was no trace of him or the others. There were no hoof prints. Nothing. They just... vanished," he finished weakly.  
  
"Impossible," the King spat. His features then softened, noticing traces of fatigue on the other's face. "Rest now," he said softly, forcing himself to be calm. "Call of the search party for now but continue it first thing in the morning tomorrow. I shall go with you."  
  
"Yes, milord," the rider said gratefully bowing low and rushing off, stumbling in his weariness.  
  
The King closed his door slowly with a pang of guilt. 'Galdor would never call off a search party if I was presumed to be dead.' He rubbed his eyes slowly before letting his gaze fall on his shining silver sword, hanging on the opposite wall. He walked slowly to it as if in a trance and gently put his hands on it. The cool metal relived old memories of battles. Of triumph and losses. The age-less King's hands were suddenly alive once more as if a hundred years fell from him. He grabbed the sword off the wall and expertly tied the scabbard around his waist. With a slight smile, he strapped on his quiver and fetched his long bow, enjoying the feeling of having his weapons close once more. The feeling was almost lost to him for so long and now it was back as if it were yesterday when he first wielded a blade.  
  
Smiling in satisfaction, he crept quietly out into the hallway. With his years of training as a Ranger, he quickly reached the exit without anyone noticing his absence. The well-oiled door made no sound what so ever as he slipped past them to the stables. A golden palomino stallion nickered softly seeing its old master again.  
  
Thranduil shushed it and after a few comforting words, he tacked up the stallion and as slick as a shadow, he slipped unnoticed into the night.  
  
With Haldir  
  
The Lothlorien Guardian bit back a moan as another sharp pain stabbed at his insides. 'Why did I have to drink that stew? Why?' He had to admit then White Oak was much better then iocane but at least iocane was painless. He felt his stomach churn inside and stumbled on his normally excellent footing. Legolas had lost consciousness while they were trying to plug up the gaping wound to lessen the blood flow. He noted with surprise that Hithiel was quite skilled at this and showed no signs that the White Oak was affection her.  
  
He glanced at her again and fought the urge to throw-up when he saw her blood-covered hands. They horrified him the most even if he worked with them in Lothlorien all the time. It never bothered him when he was the one doing it but it was unnerving to watch.  
  
Hithiel heaved a small sigh and wiped a hand across her forehead to clear her eyes. A streak of red smeared across her face, right between her eyes but she didn't seem to notice.  
  
A small smile tugged at her features. "He'll live, Haldir," she said after binding the wound tightly with fabric. "But he lost a lot of blood. He's be weak for a few days and probably sore."  
  
Haldir gave a small sigh of relief. "But shouldn't he be awake by now? It's been hours!"  
  
Hithiel looked thoughtful. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's probably a healing sleep but..."  
  
She fixed her gaze back on the radiant Prince. Even near death he looked eternal. She had never met another Elf with such a bright inner light before. 'He's just too innocent to be Thranduil's son.' A frown spread across her lips as her mind wandered back to her quest. 'Why Thranduil? Why not any other nameless Elf? Why did I have to meet Legolas?' she thought despairingly gazing at the sleeping form. Even though she still didn't trust them fully, she felt close to him... and Haldir. Almost as if... they were her big brothers....  
  
She leaned back into a nearby chair and her startling emerald eyes were fixed on the steady rising and falling of the Prince's chest. She noticed with displeasure that the white fabric that she used to bind the knife wound was already soaked in blood. The red blossomed on to the white and was starting to stain the sheets. "You should change his bandages," said a tired voice behind him.  
  
"Yes, I know," she said without turning around knowing it was Haldir. "But if I do, he'll probably wake up." She didn't need to add that he would also feel the pain in his side.  
  
Suddenly a loud thump crashed into the heavy door, making both Elves jump in surprise. Hithiel narrowed her eyes until they were almost slits of green. "It's Uruviel," she hissed with disdain.  
  
"How do you know?" said Haldir pulling open the door. It was indeed Uruviel, and the elegant knot that she had before dinner had fallen out and the thick locks fell in tangles around her face, which Hithiel noted with pleasure, had a small red imprint. Before dragging the Prince into his chambers, Hithiel had delivered the spoiled Elf a solid slap to her face for injuring him.  
  
'If Haldir didn't hold me back, I probably would've beaten her again,' Hithiel mused silently. She saw a sudden movement and instantly flung out an arm to counter and push it out of the way.  
  
A soft cry escaped Uruviel who had collapsed on to the floor after being pushed. With one hand on her stomach, she slowly rose up, eyes never leaving the blazing green ones of Hithiel. "What do you want now?" she spat at the young maiden. "You have caused enough trouble here already! I don't give a care if you're a higher rank than me! It doesn't give you the right to KILL us! Send out your guards and I'll kill them all!"  
  
"Hithiel..." Haldir warned from behind.  
  
"I WILL kill them! They're pathetic! Just like you!" she spat at the Elf.  
  
The spoiled one's face was slowly turning into a bright shade of red. "How dare you speak to me that way! I am a ROYALTY!! Hear that! ROYALTY!! I can do whatever I please! If I want to kill someone I will! Right now I feel like killing you but I'll give you a chance to live. Bow to me and praise me as you would to the Valor and I MIGHT let you live."  
  
Green flashed violently. "You little BRAT!!" she cried. "If anyone deserves to die, its YOU!" she yelled equally as loud as the other and without knowing it, her hands balled themselves into tight fists and was rising.  
  
A soft, unskilled hand sliced through the air, aiming for Hithiel's face but the warrior caught the wrist deftly. She held it there with an expressionless face while watching the Elfling struggle in her grip. Slowly, she began to tighten her grip, cutting off the blood and digging her nails in. The Elfling gasped in pain and shock and continued trying to pry the grip off her wrist but the warrior's grip was like steel. Small beads of blood started to dot the pale arm and the smaller one choked in pain. "Let GO!!" she wailed, desperately flailing her legs at her.  
  
Hithiel leaned back and swept her leg forward, tripping the Elfling. With a shriek, she tumbled ungracefully into a heap on the floor. Hithiel reluctantly let go of the wrist, watching her cradle her poor arm with pity- less eyes.  
  
Uruviel glared at her with dark eyes filled with everlasting hatred and without another word, rushed out of the room. "You shouldn't have done that," said a melodious voice behind her.  
  
She whipped around and found Legolas awake. Apparently, he saw the entire thing. "When did you wake up?" she asked.  
  
"How do you expect me to sleep peacefully when you guys were shouting loud enough for my father to hear?" he replied back.  
  
Hithiel forced a grin. "Are you ok?" she asked moving towards him.  
  
He grimaced, looking at his wound. He nodded wordlessly. "She'll be out to kill you next you know."  
  
"Let her try," the warrior replied nonchalantly walking towards the open window. A small breeze swept through the room as her green eyes scanned the star-less sky. She let her tense muscles relax for a second as the wind played with her long raven hair.  
  
Suddenly a loud thump from above made her jerk and she sprang back automatically. Haldir also rose, pushing back the Prince who was trying to sit up. "What's that," he whispered, eyes glued to the ceiling. The Guardian shook his head wordlessly as his hand tightened on his friend's shoulder.  
  
Two more thumps followed the first. Just as Hithiel started to walk back towards the window, a dark bundle dropped in front of her from outside. It was hanging from a thick rope from the roof above and as it swung close to the open window, a beam of candlelight fell across the bundle. A sniffled gasp was heard from behind and Hithiel bit her lip. The small light of the candle revealed to them that the bundle was actually an Elf. A Mirkwood warrior. Or use to. The skin was stretched taunt over the delicate face bones and the eyes looked as if they were clawed out. A small hissing noise issued from the body and right before their eyes, the body began to melt.  
  
Yippee! Another cliff! Hehe, don't kill me! I know I'm getting lazier and I have really good excuse for it but you all probably don't want to hear it. I'll try to update soon but I have finals coming up, and a competition. Review replies are below.  
  
S Quilltwiner – Lol, yep we all hate those spoiled brats. I base her off of person that I use to know. Ugh, and they usually tend to be really, REALLY stupid too. Sorry I didn't update real soon. Mucho busy.  
  
Cherryfaerie – Lol! I know! I LOVE writing cliffies but I absolutely LOATH it when other peoples write them. Hehe. You can kill Uruviel BUT you should wait because she has a bigger part then just being a brat. Whoops! Think I said too much! Ttyl.  
  
ChildofGod-4ever – Thank you! Actually, I have no idea why I like writing angst stories. It just comes out! Anger? I don't know. If you ask my friends, I'm seem like the least sad/angry person but if they read my writing, then it's a different story. Lol. Thanks! Update your stories soon!  
  
LotrFreako - Lol. Already saw Troy! It was awesome! But I have to say that Patroclus was the hottest! He's just my little Haldir! Hector was bad either.  
  
Tinuviel88 - Of course I won't kill Legolas this early in the story! He has a bigger part to play!  
  
Mithithiel – Sorry for my late updates but I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
  
DarkCloudSurfer – Ummm, here's the next chapter! I'll update soon. I promise.  
  
KeeperOfNenya – I think I answered that question already. Thanks a lot for pointing that out to me. I was tired when I wrote that chapter. 


	11. Hunted

Disclaimer: Let's do this properly now shall we? Lord of the Rings is not mine and never will be.  
  
Author's Note: Hey! I didn't die! Sorry I haven't updated in soooo long. I've just gotten so lazy. You won't believe it so if you want me to update, tell me so I could get some motivation! Enough babble, on with the story!  
  
Bittersweet Revenge  
  
Hunted  
  
Legolas gazed at the body in horror as it started hissing. A cloud of smoke rose from the body. He wanted desperately to tear his eyes from the horrible sight except he couldn't. Couldn't look away from the horror unfolding before his eyes.  
  
A strong east wind blew from the window and the smoke vanished. The three Elves stared at the remains of the Mirkwood warrior. There was nothing left except for a very disfigured skeleton and the remains of his armor.  
  
Hithiel was the first to move. Her eyes wide as she carefully reached for the remains, sensing there was more to it. Her hands cautiously brushed the bones as she slowly peeled back the armor. 'Mother did this. There is no other explanation. Only she has a mind to do this.'  
  
She bit her lower lip debating whether or not she should tell the others about what she was thinking. 'But they would reject me if they ever knew. They would expect me to as sadistic as Mother and would never look at me the same way again.' She stripped off some of the armor, looking to see if there was another message on the body. Yes, she saw some marks etched deeply into the bone. Hithiel shuddered inwardly. The poor Elf, he was still alive when Mother used a knife and carved into his bone. She moved the armor slightly to cover up the marks so that Legolas and Haldir wouldn't see. She would examine it more closely later. Alone.  
  
"Who is- was he?" asked Haldir weakly, still shook up from watching the Elf.  
  
Legolas ran his fingers through his long golden tresses, squinting at the remains of the armor. "I don't know, but he was part of Galdor's squad," he said finally pointing at a small badge pinned under what use to be a chin.  
  
"Galdor?" asked Hithiel not looking up.  
  
"Yes, the one my father was babbling about," replied Legolas. "He's the captain of one of our squads." He felt a pang at his ribs. He had talked too much and his chest was still not fully healed.  
  
Haldir didn't miss a thing and immediately began scolding the Prince for getting up and wasting his energy. Hithiel took this opportunity to carefully drag the carcass out of the room. She looked pointedly at Haldir and jerked her head towards the Prince. Haldir nodded in understanding as he turned back to his friend.  
  
Hithiel dragged the body out into the hall and quickly scanned it to make sure it was clear. Without a sound, she stripped the rest of the armor off the body and her eyes widened slightly as she read the message left for her on the femur bone of the victim.  
  
**'RETURN OR MORE SHALL SUFFER'  
  
**Hithiel bit her lip and glanced worriedly back at the room as if expecting one of their servants to come and sweep one of them away. She could not linger here anymore but... she couldn't leave. Something held her to the palace; something bound her to Legolas and Haldir. Dark hair fell forward across her face but she made no attempt to brush it back. She had to leave. Her friends might pay the consequences for her actions if she didn't.  
  
She slowly rose to her feet and unsheathed a small dagger. Gently, she scraped it over the bone until the original message was unreadable. Satisfied that no one else could read it, she turned back to the room.  
  
"Where did she go?" asked a muffled voice from behind the wooden door.  
  
Hithiel froze, hearing Legolas's voice.  
  
"I think she just went to dump the body. You know, speaking of Hithiel, don't you think she kind of looks like you? She could almost pass as your sister."  
  
Hithiel pressed her pointed ear against the door, wanting to hear more of it.  
  
"Really? I've been thinking that too to be honest. But she isn't. She doesn't have the Thranduil family trait."  
  
"I didn't say she was your sister, I just said she looks like one."  
  
"Yes, I know." Pause. "Somehow, when I'm around her, I feel at ease. Almost as if I knew her from somewhere before." Another pause.  
  
"Now you're getting delirious, my Lord," mocked Haldir. "Go get some sleep."  
  
Hithiel, having heard all of it slid down against the door. Legolas wasn't being delirious. She felt it too but she didn't know what it was. Somehow, she just knew Legolas, felt close to him and an instinct said to protect him. Family trait? What was that?  
  
She glanced back at the mangled corpse and quickly stood up. She was not going to leave until she figured out why her mother held such a huge grudge against the Thranduil family. Until then, she could not bring herself to kill Legolas's father. She just couldn't kill him.  
  
'_I never want to return 'home' again_.'  
  
She had found a place where she was happy, where she didn't have to live in fear, where she had friends.  
  
'_I will never leave you guys_.'  
  
Even if her mother sent all her servants at her. She could cut them down easily without remorse if it meant defending the place where her friends were.  
  
'_I never let my comrades die_.'  
  
Short chapter, I know. Sorry! This was like a little warm-up cause I haven't written anything in a while but I promise I'll get the next one out as soon as possible and it'll be longer. Thank you reviewers! Love you all! I'll post responses in the next chapter. Review!! 


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